


Eats me away

by arkflikka



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anorexia, Depression, Eating Disorders, M/M, Purging, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:34:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 55,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkflikka/pseuds/arkflikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To hide your true self, it eats you away. <br/>To be forbidden to be with the one you love, it hurts.</p><p>It begins as a way to cope...<br/>...now it's a way to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGERWARNING!
> 
> This story will contain graphic descriptions of eating disorders, self harm and depression.
> 
> If you're easily triggered I suggest that you don't read this story, for your own safety.
> 
> And if you want to talk, you can talk to me. Here on AO3 or on twitter @arkflikka

I’ve never been prone to tell lies. I can’t recall ever doing it, not even a white lie on a rare occasion that I forgot to do my homework. I told the teacher the truth, that I had played videogames instead of doing my homework. But nowadays it feels as if all I do is telling lies. Lying to the people I love, the people who I care about. Lying to the people that love me, that care about me, even if it’s beyond me why.

_I’m not hungry._

_I already ate._

_I feel a little sick._

_My tummy hurts._

_I’m just stressed._

_It’s just the cat._

_A fan grabbed me to hard._

_It’s just cold._

_I’ve not cried, I got soap in my eyes when I showered._

_It’s nothing, just got something in my eye, that’s all._

_I’m just tired._

_I’m okay._

_I’m fine._

And since I pretty much never lied they believed me. No one saw. No one noticed. It’s amazing what a baggy long-sleeved shirt and a smile can hide. No one noticed when the collection of scars on my wrist grew. No one noticed the pounds I shed and the bones that protruded more for each day that passed. No one saw. No one noticed. And that suited me perfectly.

**

Stepping of the scale with a sinking feeling of disappointment wasn’t something new. I weighed myself every day, several times, knowing it’s going to ruin my day, but I still do it. I picked up the brown leather journal from the bed, jotting down the disgustingly high number on the right page. I had only lost 4 ounces.

I still had an hour and half before I had to meet up with the lads, and I was going to make the most of that hour to make sure that next time it would be more than 4 ounces. Unfortunately Liam had insisted we should have a proper movie-night, complete with shitty films, popcorn and greasy pizza.

I felt like I was flying, my feet barely touching the ground. My heart was pounding, my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, muscles straining to keep me running, a faint taste of copper in my mouth, small black spots dancing in front of my eyes, but I felt numb, I felt perfect. I had pushed every thought of having to eat pizza or tell yet another lie to the back of my mind, trying my hardest not to think about it.

When I was back in front of our flat I had to lean over with my hands on my knees to catch my breath. My stomach twisted and I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping the queasiness would disappear.  But no such luck, in the next second I’m retching up the non-existent food in my stomach. After dry heaving for what felt like an eternity, but surely were ‘only’ five minutes my stomach finally settled down and I gulped down a few deep breaths. I felt weak, and it made me hate myself a little more, I don’t want to be weak, I want to be perfect. To feel a little better I tried to count on how much I had burnt today. Running for an hour equals 574 calories burnt, having eaten two celery-sticks, and with celery being negative calories, I had basically not consumed any calories today and it felt really good, no it felt fantastic to be running on empty.

**

Walking up the stairs has never been so exhausting before, and it has never taken to long. I had to stop every four step and sit down to avoid passing out. When I finally made it to the top of the stairs the room felt as if it was spinning around me but I ignored it, determent to get to my room. Black dots were dancing in front of my eyes as I made my way to my wardrobe, digging out my polaroid-camera that was hidden in a box beneath some sweaters. Besides the camera itself there was almost a hundred of small square-shaped pictures, all with the motive turned downwards, away from eye-sight. I picked the camera up from inside the box and put it on the bedspread before stripping all my clothes apart from my boxers. I grabbed the camera again and went into the bathroom. Standing in front of the full-body mirror, avoiding looking at my reflection, snapping a picture of myself. When the small square came out I waved it a little, to allow it to dry.

After I had put the newly taken picture and the camera back in the box, hid it beneath the sweaters I went to the bathroom again. I rid myself of my boxers and taking my temperature before stepping in the shower and turning the thermostat down to 12°C, as low as I could go at the moment. I stood under the spray, watching the roof, letting my fingers dance across my body, feeling the fat, all the disgusting fat and the slightly raised scars on my forearm. I didn’t look down once during my 15 minute ice-cold shower, I didn’t want to see the masses of fat that still clung to every part of my body, I wanted to lose all the fat, no I wasn’t losing it, because I had no intention of finding it ever again, I wanted to get rid of all the fat, of all the weight that was left before I was perfect. I took my temperature again, it had dropped 2 degrees. That meant my body would burn another 400 calories getting me up to my normal temperature again. After doing a silent celebration in my head I dried myself and got dressed.

**

I was still shivering by the time I reached Liam’s flat. It was Niall that opened the door and I didn’t even get a ‘Hi’ out before he had enveloped me in one of his bone crushing hugs. I used to love them and take comfort in them, now I just wanted him to let go so that he couldn’t feel my disgusting body. Then I heard a voice that made my heart swell in my chest, dear God what I had missed him. He shoved Niall aside and then his arms was around me, and I was conflicted, one side of me wanted him to let go and another side wanted him to never release me from his embrace, just keep holding me together.

“Why didn’t you answer when I called you, sweet cheeks?” He murmured into the column of my neck.

Mumbles of ‘Oh God’ and ‘Get a room’ echoed in the background as I racked my brain for an excuse he would buy. I should have known that he would ask, I had just repressed it, my mind being completely focused on burning as many calories as I could.

“I had to go to LA to record some stuff for the album and forgot my charger.”

It was possibly one of the worst lies I had ever told, but it was the best I could come up with right now.

“You forgetful little goofball.” He said and ruffled my curls.

I didn’t want him to be all sweet and lovey-dovey and forgive me. I wanted him to be angry at me for lying to him, for missing the charity-football match. I huffed, pretending to be offended by the comment. He let me go and I had to swallow hard to get rid of the lump of emotions that was forming in my throat.

“Pizza is ready guys!” Zayn hollered from the kitchen.

That’s when the smell of pizza hit me. It made my stomach roll, and I felt slightly nauseated at just the thought of eating, letting the fat filled crust and the thick melted cheese pass through my lips. I had only eaten two celery-sticks today, and ran for an hour, but there was still no way I was going to eat the pizza, or anything for that matter. All empty calories, not worth the effort it took to get rid of it afterwards.

**

“What about you, H? Are you not going to eat?” Zayn said and put his arms around my shoulders.  
“I’m actually trying to cut down on all the junk food, so no.”   
“Yeah, maybe you need to diet.” Louis said and poked me in the stomach with his finger.

I flinched, both at his words and at his finger touching all those rolls of fat. Deep down I knew that he was only joking around, but the words got to me, he thought I was fat. I knew I was fat and needed to lose weight, but hearing him say it, it just hurt. I squirmed away from him and leaned into Zayn’s side.

“You know Zayn will be sad if you don’t taste, he made it himself.” Niall said and I could feel my heart sink.   
“Yeah, I made a pizza for you each and I made this especially for you and it would make me really, really sad if you don’t at least taste it.”

I sighed and gave up, I just had to burn it of or purge it or something later. One slice was 230 calories, if I run home later I would burn it off.

**

I managed to choke down one slice and drank a glass of water while the others nearly inhaled their pizzas and drank beer. I could feel the thick dough and melted cheese weigh heavily in my stomach and I itched to get rid of it.

I used to enjoy our movie nights, but now I just wanted to get out of here, go for a run to burn off those dreadful calories. My mind was too focused on the pizza clinging to the walls of my stomach, calories being digested, and I couldn’t enjoy the movies and when it had ended I could swear that if someone asked me what the movie had been about I wouldn’t be able to give them an answer.

**


	2. Chapter 2

Louis was drunk. Not extremely so, just enough to be having trouble walking straight, speech slightly slurred and being even more clingy than usual. He had managed to down 7 beers during the night. 1 beer was 440ml, which was 4.4dl. Beer was 40kcal/100g, so one beer was 176kcal so 7 beers equaled 1232kcal. 1232 of liquid calories. I shuddered at the thought.

Louis being drunk meant I had to take a cab with him home. I needed to run and burn off the calories from the pizza, but Louis had insisted that he simply did not have the energy to walk home and he was most certainly not taking a cab alone. And now he was nearly sitting in my lap, his lips attached to my neck, hands stroking every part of me he could reach. I really wanted him to stop, I wanted some space. My stomach hurt and I felt even more disgusting when I knew that he could feel all the rolls of fat. He climbed onto my lap, his arms encircled my neck. I felt suffocated, I couldn’t breathe. I really, really fucking wanted him to let me go. When he started placing small butterfly kisses all over my face I couldn’t take it anymore and shoved him off me. He slumped down in his seat, covering his face with his small hands.

“I just really missed you, Hazza.” He whispered and his voice sounded choked up as if he was trying his best to hold back the tears.

Guilt hit me like a freight train right in the chest. I had made him cry.

_He doesn’t love you anymore. He’s never loved you. You’re too fat and ugly to be loved._

I shook my head, trying my hardest not to listen to the voice in my head and I reached out for him.

“Come here, Boo. I’m sorry, I got a cramp in my arm and I had to stretch it out.”

He gave me a tiny nod before looking up and I could see small droplets running down his cheeks. I patted the spot beside my leg and he slowly scooted over, still a little cautious.

“You still love me?” He whispered when he had cuddled up against my side.   
“Always. I missed you too, Boo.”

**

When we arrive at our flat the rain is pouring down and we walk as fast as Louis’ slightly uncoordinated limbs allow to the door. Louis slumps down onto the floor. Did he just pass out? But then I hear him mumble something under his breath before he yawns and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Come on, Boo. You can’t sleep here.” I say as I try to get him to stand up.  
“Tired.” He slurs.  
“I know and you can sleep as soon as you’re in the bed, okay?”

He sighs and nods, slinging his arm over my shoulders and lets me support more than half of his weight. He’s not heavy by any means, and maybe it’s my lack of nutrient, but when we get to the top of the stairs I’m out of breath and the room is swimming in front of my eyes. I soldier on and gets us both to the bed, where he unceremoniously collapses and curls up on the duvet without even bothering to remove his clothing.

After finally succeeded in stripping him down to his boxers I tuck him in and go to change to pajamas. I used to sleep naked, or in boxers, but nowadays I just can’t stand the thought of someone seeing my body without layers of clothing covering it up. Sleeping in pajamas took a while to get used to, but when I did I had learned to like it. And me and Louis hadn’t done anything for months. Partially due to the world tour and our stressful schedule with concerts, photo shoots, interviews, recording and traveling but the biggest reason was me and my fat, ugly, disgusting body.

I crawled down under the covers expecting Louis to be fast asleep so when I felt an arm snake around my waist I was shocked. It took me a moment to relax and when I had I felt how Louis had snuggled up behind me, arms wrapped around my stomach, face pressed into my shirt. A smile spread out on my lips, I loved and absolutely adored when he tried being the big spoon.

“You don’t really need to diet, you know.” He murmured sleepily against my back before his breathing evened out and I knew he had fallen asleep.

**

My stomach was churning, skin was crawling and the back of my throat itching. I needed release. I needed to get rid of the pizza. I knew that the thick crust and all the melted cheese had been digested and left my stomach a long time ago by now and that I wouldn’t get anything of it up if I tried. It was too hot under the covers and Louis’ warm body pressed up against my back did nothing to make me feel better. I felt my chest tighten with panic and seconds later I was struggling to get the air down to my lungs. When my limbs finally listened to me I broke out of Louis’ embrace and made my way to the bathroom.

I knew I couldn’t purge, not with Louis’ on the other side of the wall, and even if I could purge I wouldn’t get anything up except stomach-acid. I carved relief. I needed it as bad as air. I needed it to survive. So despite the fact that Louis was sleeping on the other side of the wall, close enough to be in hearing distance I crouched over the toilet, two fingers scraping at the back of my throat. I could feel it; I could feel how my stomach muscles contracted, time and time again until I spat a small and pathetic amount of stomach acid into the bowl, feeling a tiny, tiny bit better. However the acidy burn in my throat was not enough to calm me down and kill the urge for release.

I reached into one of the drawers and took out my box. I opened it and fished out a fresh and new pack of razorblades. I fumbled with the package until the plastic finally broke and I quickly grabbed one of the blades with my fingers. Examining it and twirling it between my fingers, letting the light from the ceiling lamp reflect in the shiny surface. Pulling my shirt up and placing the razor against my skin, goose bumps appeared on the pale flesh, before quickly dragging it over my bulging stomach. Drops of blood beaded along the cut and I could feel the urge and the bottled up pain leave me. I just stood there watching how crimson poured out from the cut and created a pattern on my pale skin.

After cleaning up and putting a bandage over the cut I got rid of the bloody tissues, covering them up with toilet paper, making sure Louis wouldn’t find them. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I felt better, not okay, but better. I prayed that I would be able to get at least a few hours of sleep. I turned the light off before tip-toed back into the bedroom, sighing in relief when I saw that Louis was still out. Not that I had expected him to have woken up, but a small part of me still feared he had noticed when I had been doing and that he was going to call me out about it and I couldn’t handle that, because there was nothing wrong, not really. I just needed to do this to survive. I crawled down under the covers, closing my eyes, wishing sleep to come and take me away to dreamland. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and if you have any ideas about what you think should happen, please tell me xx


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up the next morning by hunger cramps. Painful ones, those cramps that had my whole abdomen in its grip, but somehow I liked it. Because they meant that my stomach was completely empty. At least it had stopped growling for food I was not going to give it a couple of months back, which was a relief.

Louis was still sleeping like a log beside me, snoring load and with his mouth open. He wouldn’t be up the earliest in a couple of hours, and judging by how drunk he had been last night and how deep he slept he was going to have a bitch of a hangover.  When the hunger cramps had subsided a tiny bit, enough for my body to actually listen to me I rolled out of bed, wrapped my arms around myself and made myself over to the wardrobe. Same ritual every day, I couldn’t mess with, I needed to do this. Camera, strip, snap a picture, step onto the scale, be disgusted with the results,  put everything back, get dressed, eat some negative calories and go out running.

An apple that was today’s negative calorie food. An apple contains 90 calories and it took 110 calories to digest, so by just eating an apple I burnt 20 calories. After finishing the apple I put two aspirins and a big glass of water on the nightstand, grabbed the bottle of lemon-water and left for a run.

**

An hour later I returned to our house, slightly unsteady on my feet, a light tingly sensation in my fingers. The lemon-water had made it easier, not a lot but enough to make up for the few calories it contained. The first thing my mind processed when I opened the door was the smell of fried eggs and bacon. It made my stomach turn and the thought of turn around and go out again seemed pretty appealing.

“Haz, is it you?” He called.

Fuck, too late. He had heard me coming in. Now I had to come up with an excuse so that I didn’t have to eat. _Stomach-ache._

“It’s me.” I call back, kicking of my shoes before I went into the kitchen.  
“Had a nice run?” He said and turned around to face me.

He had an over-sized sweater on, the sleeves were rolled up several times, his hair was all tousled up and he still had sleep-gravel in the corner of his eyes. He looked so cute and cuddly and I would really like to burrow my face in his neck, inhaling his scent and just stay there, forever. But I couldn’t. I forced myself to smile before I nodded and then quickly adding:

“I did, but now I have a bit of a stomach-ache.”  
“Maybe you’re just hungry, I mean after the running. Breakfast should be ready in ten. Go grab a quick shower and then we’ll eat some breakfast, yeah and maybe you’ll feel better.”

I nodded and headed for the bathroom where I made a quick work of shedding my work-out gear, jumping into the shower. I turned down the temperature before turning the water on.  Five minutes later I stepped out of the shower, drying myself of as quickly as possible and then pulling on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt.

He had set up the table, put the fried eggs and bacon on two plates, the light from a small candle flickering across his face as he sat there waiting for me.

“All fresh?”  
“Yep.”

I took a seat across from him; sighed and promising myself I would burn off the calories later. I was just about to take the first bite of the egg, which looked pretty delicious… _No, it doesn’t. It’s filled with calories, nothing with that many calories are delicious._ …when Louis broke the silence.

“I found this picture…”

The rest of his words faded out. My heart raced my breath quickening. I was seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack when Louis slid the picture across the table and I drew a breath of relief when I saw it was one of the fatter ones that I had sorted out because the box were reaching its limit. I must have dropped one of them on the floor without noticing. I thanked some higher power that it wasn’t one of the latter ones, with scars and cuts scattered on my body.

“…don’t get why you would get that from me. I mean, such a hot picture shouldn’t be hidden away.”

I just smile and slowly start eating. Why wasn’t he disgusted by all those rolls of fat that covered my body? I was so disgusted I felt sick and I had to struggle to swallow the bite of egg. When I had eaten half of the egg _50 calories_ , manage to choke down one strip of bacon _49 calories_ and downed a fourth of the glass of apple juice _24 calories_ I couldn’t continue. I felt so bloated and disgusting, so fat and repulsive. I put my fork down, covering my mouth.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice full of concern.  
“My stomach hurts more. Maybe I’m coming down with something.” I said and saw how his face fell.  
“I’m sorry for making you eat when you felt bad. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Haz.”  
“You’re forgiven, Boo. If you had anything to be forgiven for.”  
“Come on, let’s get you in bed, okay?”

I nodded, rose from the chair, putting my hand on my stomach, cringing a little before following him slowly into the bedroom. He tucked me in in bed, kissed my forehead before laying down beside me. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts wander. _I had just consumed 123 calories in one meal. I hadn’t done that for months. I had to burn them off. Or maybe I could purge, I did have a perfect and reliable excuse for doing so._ I felt how he carded his fingers through my hair, playing with the curls. I loved the feeling of his fingers pulling and playing with the strands, his nail scratching my scalp. I may have actually purred because I could hear him chuckle. He started humming softly on ‘Look after you’ continuing to card his fingers through my hair. I faked being asleep, so maybe he would leave. I didn’t really wanted him to leave, but I did really need to burn off those calories. And soon enough he got up, kissed my forehead once more before leaving the room.

_I wonder for how long I can fake being sick before it becomes suspicious._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the future I may jump between different POV, but it will be obvious (I hope) when I change POV. And until you read for an example: 'Louis' POV' it is in Harry's POV! 
> 
> And keep your fingers and toes crossed that I'll be able to update really soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a lot of mentions of calories and I'm sorry.
> 
> Also I LOVE the comments, they make my day. Everytime I see that I have a new comment my smile gets so big that if it wasn't for the ears my head would have split in two.
> 
> And, I'm going to create a group on Twitter with who to send updates too, so if you want to be in it, let me know.  
> That's all for now I think, beside that IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR WHAT CAN HAPPEN, LET ME KNOW, PLEASE!
> 
> ENJOY!

I heard him taking care of the dishes and the leftovers from the breakfast. I felt kind of guilty for lying to him, for faking being ill, but it was the only way, it had to be done. Ten minutes later I heard the muted sound from the TV, and the unmistakable sound of Fifa reached my ears.  Then I knew he would come back into the room for a while and I silently crawled out of bed, laid down on the floor and started doing sit-ups.

Half an hour of vigorous sit-ups and 193 calories burnt later I was out of breath, a light sheen of sweat covering my body. I knew I could pass it of as fever, so I wasn’t worried and simply crawled back into bed, pulling the duvet up to my chin. However I couldn’t get comfortable, the food still sitting heavily in my stomach and I felt the need for the burning, acidy feeling in the back of my throat. But it was too late to get rid of the egg and bacon because most of the calories had already been absorbed, however that didn’t stop me from wanting to make myself throw up.

Five minutes later everything seemed to be closing in on me and I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. I needed some relief, something to take the pain away. Making my way to the bathroom, quickly sinking down to my knees in front of the toilet, shoving two fingers to the back of my throat, stroking with experienced fingers feeling my stomach contracting. Not much coming up, mostly stomach acid and I feel slightly better. I shoved my fingers to the back of my throat again, gagging loudly. Only seconds later Louis came bustling into the room, the expression on his face changing as soon as he sees me kneeling in front of the toilet.

“Oh, baby.” He mumbled and kneeled beside me, brushing my hair of my sweaty forehead while I dry heaved a few times before sitting back on my haunches, taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

“You think you’re done, sweet cheeks?”

I nodded and let him help me get up so I could wash away the taste of sick before helping me back to bed, tucking me in again, placing a bucket beside the bed, ‘just in case’ he said and placed a kiss on my forehead.

**

The next three days passed in a blur of him coaxing me to drink water, or some rehydration-concoction or sometimes even some broth or soup, and me throwing every single thing back up. He thought it was the nastiest case of a stomach bug the world had ever seen, but I knew it wasn’t, it was me trying to get perfect, it was me trying to keep in control off the pain.  

On the fourth day I knew I had to start to ‘get better’ or Louis would worry and make me go to a doctor. So when he offered me a cup of chicken _38 calories_ I sipped it slowly. The smile on his face when I ‘was able to keep it down’ would have put the stars to shame in its shine and I felt a bit bad for lying to him.

On the fifth day it was white bread _74 calories per slice_ and rice _211 calories per portion_ on the menu and I hid as much of it I could, as soon as he looked away I put small pieces of the bread and bites of rice into a napkin, eating as little as possible. Later I vigorously did crunches when he slept at night, resulting in burning muscles and bags under my eyes, but it was worth it, burning away all those calories.

Day six he decided that my stomach could handle normal food again and I had agreed, against my will and better judgment. That night when he had fallen asleep and I was sure of that he wouldn’t wake up I sneaked out and ran for two hours _1003 calories burned_. When I came back I had to literally crawl up the stairs to keep from passing out, but it was so worth it, so worth it. I used the last ounce of energy to stagger to the bathroom, digging out a blade, twirling it between my fingers before laying it against my wrist. I dragged the blade across my skin, watching the blood bead along the cut. I had to repeat the action again and again until there were seven new cuts marring my wrist before I could feel the urge starting to vanish and relief taking its place.

On the seventh day I was woken up by Louis’ ringtone. I buried my head deeper into the pillow, trying to ignore the annoying sound. _Get up and run, you lazy, fat disgrace!_  Even though I knew it was true it still hurt and it made me want to feel the all familiar pain. I scratched over my wrist, nails pulling on the scabs from last night’s cuts and relished in the stinging sensation that spread through my arm, calming me down. Louis’ cell continuing to ring for a good two minutes before Louis woke up and groggily answered. I watched as his expression changed from sleepy and content to distraught and annoyed in mere seconds and I knew who was on the other end of the line. When he hanged up a few minutes later he confirmed my thought by saying:

“Apparently I have a ‘date’ today.”

And from that moment I knew that today was going to be a bad day, worse than they usually were.

**

The next day

I had just got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my hips when I heard someone walk around in the living room. Louis couldn’t be back yet. He had just left ten minutes ago, just after I got back from running, and I knew that he could never walk or drive to Tesco, shop and then walk or drive back in ten minutes, never.

I completely forgot to cover my upper body and walked out of the bathroom. I don’t know who I expected to see in the living room, but it sure as hell wasn’t her.

“Okay, ew.” She said and turned her eyes away.

Silence.

“So, yeah, Boo forgot this last night.” She continued and held up a sweater.

Her saying Boo made my blood boil; she did not have the right to call him that. She put the sweater on the coffee table and that’s when I saw which sweater it was. It was my sweater, my oversize and grey sweater. He had worn my sweater to a ‘date’ with the beard. It hurt more than I can put words on at the same time it was a nice heart-warming feeling that he wore my clothes on his ‘dates’. I didn’t have time to dwell on it anymore because she turned back to me and started talking, god I hated her, soo much.

“I don’t understand how you can walk around without a shirt. I mean look at you, you’re fat and ugly and it disgusts me enough to make me feel sick. You’re just an attention-seeking faggot and I can’t understand why Boo is with you, he could do so, so much better than you. Besides you’re right, you do need to diet, I mean just look at all that fat, disgusting! And you know what would be good for you? To lose some weight, that’s what would do you some good, you goddamn fatty!”

I was about to ask how she knew about me being on a diet when it hit me that I didn’t want to know. I knew that she was right but it still hurt to hear it and I had to try my hardest to keep the tears at bay. I don’t I succeeded to stop the tears or hide the hurt swimming in my eyes as good as I thought because she said:

“Wow, you really are pathetic!”

She turned on her heels and walked out the door, slamming it behind before I had a chance to respond. I hurried back into the bathroom, franticly searching for my blade. I needed it so bad my whole body was trembling. I deserved to hurt, I was fat, ugly, disgusting and pathetic and I truly deserved to hurt. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woho, finally an update. I'm so sorry for keeping you guys waiting. Don't you just hate writers block? I do!  
> Anyway, this turned out to be a lot longer than I originally thought, it pretty much wrote it self at 12AM, anyways ENJOY!

We were barely up in the air before Louis unbuckled his seatbelt, reached into his bag and then dumped a bag of Doritos in my lap and sat down again. I knew he would expect me to eat. I racked my brain, trying to come up with an excuse he would believe.

‘I’m still full from last I ate.’ _No, it was 8 am and he knew that I hadn’t eaten breakfast.  
_ ‘My stomach hurts.’ _No, he would worry and insist that we had to cancel shows.  
_ ‘I still feel a little car sick.’ _No, he knew I never got car sick, ever._

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and made a mental note to myself to burn off the calories later. He opened the bag and the smell of cheese overwhelmed me. He took a handful of chips from the bag and started munching on them.

“They’re still your favorite, right?” He said, suddenly sounding very unsure and confused.

And it was first then that I realized I had been staring at the bag in his hand for I don’t know how long. I nodded, silently cursing myself for making me look like a fool. He held up the bag to me and I reached into it and grabbed a couple of chips, putting one in my mouth. _12 calories._ Putting another chips into my mouth, slowly chewing it, breaking it down to a cheesy powder. _12 calories._

19 chips _235 calories_ later I felt disgusting. I felt the panic take over my body, my throat closing up and I bolt out of my seat and into the tiny airplane-bathroom. I wanted to purge so bad, I needed it. I couldn’t let my body absorb all those disgusting calories. I put my head in my hands, trying to force air into my lungs. I wanted, needed to purge, to get those chips out, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t purge, not with Louis and the other lads so close and the plane being such an enclosed space. Even if I could do it silently the smell would betray me and then I had to come up with an excuse that would be believed, and whatever lie he would tell it would end up with Louis getting worried about me and I didn’t want that. _I shouldn’t have eaten them in the first place. I just have to burn off the calories as soon as we get off the plane._ I flushed the toilet, washed my hands before splashing some water on my face, trying to calm my breathing. When my breathing was almost back to normal again a few minutes later I open the door and walks back to my seat.

I am met with a very confused look from Louis.

“What happened?”   
“Really had to pee.”

He simply nodded and turned his attention back to the Nintendo in his hands. I sat back into my seat and closed my eyes. Soon I felt how tears escaped through my closed eyelids. I had to concentrate so hard to not let out the strangled sob that was about to tear my chest apart.

“Harry?”  
“Harry?”

I opened my eyes and Louis was closer than I had thought. His breath tickled my face, his thumb gently stroking away the tears from my cheeks.

“You okay?”  
“Yeah, it’s just the dry air that makes my eyes water. No need to worry.”

He swallowed this lie as easy as all the others and that made me want to scream and shout in his face that I was not okay, that I was getting closer and closer to giving up each day that passed.

**

My fake-sleeping must have been better than I thought because only half an hour later I hear Louis talking. About me. Things I don’t think were meant for me to hear.

“I don’t think he loves me anymore.”

I wanted to smash my head against the airplane-wall. He sounded so miserable and I never ever want him to feel like that.

“What are you talking about?!” Liam sounded almost angry. I didn’t want him to be angry at my Boo.   
“He’s distancing himself from me. He won’t talk to me unless he have to. And we haven’t, you know, had sex, barely even kissed for like forever. And I just miss him.”   
“He hasn’t stopped loving you, Lou. I don’t think he could even if he wanted to.” Zayn tried to argue.

Why can’t I just do anything right? Why do always the people I love get hurt? Hurt because of me. Guilt gnawed in my chest, my wrist itching. I didn’t want to hear him talk about that anymore, pain and panic building up inside me. I had hurt him. Was I ever going to be able to heal him? I tried closing the sound out, but his words were still ringing in my ears.

**

I must’ve fallen asleep because next time I opened my eyes it was dark outside.

“Nice of you to join the awake, Styles.”

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and was about to come up with a witty reply when a menu was dumped in my lap.

“Dinnertime!” Louis screeched and placed a wet, sloppy kiss on my cheek.   
“How much have you drunk?” I asked, cradling his face in my hands.  
“I.. ha..ve..n’t…” He hiccupped and I turned to Liam who gestured to a collection of shot glasses on Louis’ sidetable.  
“Just great.” I sighed.  
“Food!” Louis said and slumped back into his seat, acting like a five year old.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, picking up the menu from my lap. Pizza, no. Grilled chicken, no. Fries, no. It wasn’t until I reached ‘Tomato Soup’ that I finally decided. Tomato soup had 125 calories, too much but it was the only slightly acceptable thing I could find on the damn menu.

**

After I had choked down the soup we spent hours playing video games, making up silly stories and planning pranks for the tour-staff. I tried writing song lyrics for a song, but all I could muster was ‘ _I’m so fat. Ugly. Disgusting._ ’ After five pages of how fat and ugly and disgusting and unworthy I was I gave up. An hour later I grew tired of twiddling my thumbs and took a sleeping pill. Before the pill swept me off the dreamland I felt Louis cuddling up to my side and I couldn’t stop myself from putting my arm around his shoulders, despite the voice in my head telling me to keep my distance.

**

Six hours later when my eyes fluttered open again Louis was just inches away from me. His eyes even more dazed then before I went to sleep.

“I.. I’m… hu…ng…rlyyyy, H..aaa..rrrrr..yyyy!!”   
“Then eat something.”  
“Ee…at…wi…th m…e? Pw..ease?”

I soo, soo wanted to tell him no. I should tell him no. I really should tell him no, that I wasn’t going to eat. Not now, not anytime soon.

“He won’t eat if you doesn’t and to be honest he needs something else than liquor in his stomach.” Zayn pointed out, and god didn’t Harry know that was true. Every time Louis was drunk and wanted to eat he refused to do so without having me join him. I sighed. I was going to have to do a massive workout later to burn all revolting, fattening calories.

**

A Mexican bean burger and196 calories later I sat in my seat feeling sad, disgusted and bloated, very bloated. The burger sat heavy in my stomach and I’ve never wanted to get rid of food as bad as I did now.

My stomach churned uncomfortably and it wasn’t until half an hour later when acid and half-digested food started making its way up my esophagus I connected the dots. I was going to be sick, without even have to shove my fingers down my throat. I didn’t have the time to thank any higher power before I had to grab one of those plastic bags in lightning speed before the burger ended up somewhere where I did not wanted it.

I have never seen Louis sober up that quickly ever before. He was beside my side, rubbing my back, holding my hair back by the second time I retched into the bag, his eyes not glassy at all.

Afterward I felt empty, more perfect. I leaned my head back against the pillow. Louis was hysteric of worry, blubbering words at such a rate no one was able to understand what he was saying.

“Please, Lou, calm down. I’m fine.”  
“Butyouweresicksomethingiswrongareyousickagainareyou?” Breath. “Dowehavetocancelthetouryoureallyaresickaren’tyou?” Breath. “Harrybabywhat’swrongpleasedon’tletitbesomethingseriousohmygodohmygodareyougoingtodieHarry?” Breath. Breath.

“Louis please breathe. I’m fine, I promise. It’s just dehydration from the jetlag, okay?” I said, trying to calm him down.

He gulped down a few huge breaths.

“You sure?”  
“Yes, I’m fine, I promise.”

He nodded before disappearing; coming back minutes later with a bottle of water and a bottle of rehydration drink. I did my best not to think about the calorie content of the rehydration drink, but it flew through my head anyway, _10 calories per bottle._

“Just sip it carefully when you feel like you’re not gonna be sick again okay?” He said and buried his fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp. It felt like heaven and I had to use all my power not to purr.

**

An hour later I had drunk enough water and rehydration drink to make the lads, mostly Louis, satisfied. Louis wrapped a huge fluffy blanket around me, insisting it was really necessary for the rehydrating process, and cuddled up to my side, enveloping me in one of his warm hugs, refusing to leave my side until we landed.

**

As soon as we arrived at the hotel I went straight to the gym, not listening to any possible objections from the lads. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being absolutely rubbish on updating. I will try my best to get better on updating guys, I promise.  
> And I know I'm moving fast, but I want to come to the parts where I have loads of ideas.   
> Well, enjoy and just keep in mind that comments and kudos literally make my day! xx

It’s the 29th of September and we’re doing our second show in Perth when I finally reach double digits and I reward myself with an extra glass of lemon-water.

On the 30th of September, we had barely landed in before Louis is on his way to Fiji. It hurts a little that he didn’t ask me to come, even though I understand why he didn’t.

October 1st I hear something that makes my heart break. Louis went to Fiji to propose to the beard. I spent the rest of the day in my bathroom, purging non-existent food ‘til I spit blood into the bowl and slicing myself open.

**

2nd of October: 98.5 lbs. _Not skinny enough, never skinny enough._

3rd of October: 98.5 lbs. _I’m fat. I’m sick of being fat._

4th of October: - - lbs. _My thighs are way too big and way too fat._

5th of October: 98.5 lbs. _Must. Not. Eat._

6th of October: 98.4 lbs. _Each night I pray for my bones to protrude more._

7th of October: - - lbs. _If I can pinch it, I can lose it._

 

10th of October: 97.1 lbs. _Do they even realize how much it fucking hurts?_

12th of October: 96.6 lbs. _You call me stupid? I fake a smile everyday and you believe it._

 13th of October: 96.0 lbs. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

16th of October: - - lbs. _Didn’t dare weigh myself. Talked to Louis and the beard was not with him on Fiji._

17th of October: 96.8 lbs. _There is nothing to love about me, nothing._

19th of October: 96.0 lbs. _Please stop this pain._

20th of October: 95.6 lbs. _Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears._

21st of October: 95.3 lbs. _Did you honestly believe me when I said I was fine? It’s so cute how you really think that I’m okay. I lied, I’m not okay._

23rd of October: 95.0 lbs. _Maybe if my heart stops beating it won’t hurt so badly._

24th of October: 94.3 lbs. _I wish you could hear all the words I’m too afraid to say._

25th of October: 94.3 lbs. _I honestly don’t care about myself anymore._

26th of October: 94.3 lbs. _Sometimes I look at my scars and I wonder why I hadn’t gone deeper._

27th of October: - - lbs. _Louis is driving to Melbourne with Zayn and I don’t know why. All I can put it down to is that he don’t want to be with me, wants to be away from me._

**

I’ve stopped losing weight and it tears me apart. Why couldn’t I be perfect? Why couldn’t I just be small, tiny and perfect? I wanted to be perfect so bad. I needed to be perfect, I needed the control. The pain inside is crushing me, tearing me apart and I don’t know what to do. I don’t how to deal with it.

After a small breakdown I went on my phone and searched for what to do to start losing weight again. I soon found out that if you binged occasionally it could fool your body and make it believe that you were not in starvation-mode anymore and then automatically boots your metabolism. I knew I couldn’t leave the hotel to get food, I would just be mobbed and I couldn’t deal with that today. So I ended up ordering room service.

Just looking at the food in front of me made me feel sick and I started regretting ever taking the decision to binge in the first place. A big portion of Mac and Cheese _207 calories_ and a pint of Vanilla Ben and Jerry _1043 calories_.

I took a few bites, to try it out kind of.  It wasn’t until the flavors exploded on my taste buds that I realized how hungry I was, how hungry my body was. Soon I was practically inhaling the food until all that was left was an empty carton and an empty plate and it was hard to breathe.

Binging before a show may have been the worst idea ever but my brain was, still is, so consumed with the need to start losing weight again. Now, twenty minutes before the show my stomach was still threating to tear itself apart. It had taken me a lot longer than usual to get dressed because I had been forced to do it really, really slowly cause every time I moved pain shot through my whole abdomen.

**

We had just walked onto the stage when a particularly painful cramp hit me like a freight train and I had to bend over, just standing there breathing until the worst pain had subsided.

I gritted my teeth and refused to be controlled by the pain and made it through the songs, and it wasn’t until ‘Teenage Dirtbag’ and I started feeling really queasy.  At the end of the song I couldn’t handle it anymore and my whole body bent forward, trembling with the forced of the dry heave. I ran, as fast as my feet would allow me to, backstage. I dry heaved again while franticly looking for something to be sick in. Out of nowhere there was a trashcan being pushed into my arms and I didn’t get a chance to look up to see who the kindhearted person was before mac and cheese and ice cream was making its way up my throat.

As I retched into the trashcan I couldn’t help but wonder if this would still work to boost my metabolism and make me start losing weight again. When my stomach stopped trying to force its way out of me I had to try my hardest not to purge the rest up as well. I sunk down to the floor, wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt, not caring if I got puke on it. I knew they had started ‘Rock Me’, the base made the whole floor vibrate. Seconds later the trashcan was taken away and a water bottle was being pushed into my hand. I sipped it carefully, closing my eyes for a brief moment before I was briskly lifted to my feet by someone.

“Out! Get out there again!” The voice boomed over the load music.

That’s when I realized ‘Rock me’ was almost over, I must’ve had my eyes closed for longer than I thought. I made my way back on stage, shooting a, what I hoped, reassuring smile to the lads. I knew I would have to explain what happened to them later, I dreaded it, but I knew I would have to do it. 


	7. Chapter 7

I poked the fat on my stomach, pinching it between my fingers. If I could pinch it I could lose it. Tears pooled in my eyes. I just wanted to be perfect. I just wanted to have control. I wanted to be worth something, to be skinny, to be good enough. Was that too much to ask for? I turned away from the full-length mirror where I had been staring at my fat, ugly self for the past hour. I was terribly bloated from yesterday and that made me hate myself even more. I hadn’t dared weigh myself yet but by looking at my reflection I could tell that I hadn’t lost any weight.

29th of October: - - lbs. _You made me hide. You made me lie. You made me suffer._

**

30th of October: 93.7 lbs. _Keep me together. Don’t abandon me. Hold my bones together. I’m close to giving up._

I had been feeling dizzy all day, probably a result of just drinking water, and it was a part of the price I had to pay to become perfect. It was the last show of the Australian-tour and it had to be perfect, worthy of the last-show-off-the-tour-title.

We were in the dressing room and it was just about half an hour left before we should be on stage. Louis and Liam were playing Fifa on the PlayStation and Zayn was on the phone talking to who I assumed was Perrie while me and Niall sat on a couch each.

I was scrolling through the endless tweets from our fans when Niall suddenly asked if I was okay. I looked up from my phone and met his gaze before nodding. I wanted to say something, but it was as if my throat had closed up completely. Just as Niall was about to continue talking Paul came into the room and told us that it was time. I was just about to get up when I felt a strong and solid hand on my shoulder.

“You okay, Harry?” Paul asked me in a low voice.

I nodded again before clearing my throat.

“You sure? You look quite pale.”  
“I’m fine, Paul.”

I wasn’t fine. The whole room was spinning, my fingers and lips tingling with numbness, my head was pounding and small black dots were dancing in front of my eyes. But I gritted my teeth and got up from the couch. The dots multiplied until I was surrounded by darkness and I felt myself fall.

 

**Louis POV**

I had just finished a thrilling game of Fifa with Liam and I was making sure my quiff right. All of a sudden I see Harry in the reflection and he’s crumbling to the ground. I turned around in lightning speed and I could swear you could hear the bones in my neck crack. I was by Harry’s side in a matter of seconds. The whole room was silent for moment before everyone panicked. People running. People yelling. I think someone called an ambulance.

Minutes passed. He didn’t wake up. Why didn’t he wake up? He had to wake up.

I was pulled up on my feet and pushed towards the stage.

“The show must go on. Now out, all four of you!”  
“I’m not leaving him!” I yelled at the man, probably getting spit in his face in the process, not that I cared right now.  
“You don’t have a chose, Mr. Tomlinson. Now go out there and preform.”  
“I’m not leaving him! What with that statement is hard getting through your thick head?”  
“Out now!”   
“No, I AM NOT LEAVING HI…”  
“Louis, go out there. I will keep him safe, okay?”

It was Gemma.

“Make him proud.”  
“You sound like he’s…”  
“You would have wanted him to go out and do the show if the situation was reversed, right?”  
“Yes. Okay. Promise you’ll take care of him and keep him… and make sure he knows I love him ,okay?”  
“Okay, now go out there and knock them dea… Make everyone proud.”

I didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Gemma was whisked off and into the ambulance. I swallowed, did my best to compose myself before I turned to the lads. They looked as if they too wanted to skip the show and go to the hospital.

“Let’s make everyone proud. Let’s make Harry proud.” I said, my voice all chocked up by tears I couldn’t shed right now.

They reluctantly nodded. And that was the first time we didn’t do our ritual before a show. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, really short chapter. And really crappy. And I leave you with a cliffhanger. And I'm sorry. Next chapter is going to be really important, keeping my fingers crossed that I can update real soon xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Louis POV**

The whole show was a haze of tears that I refused to shed. Liam explained to the fans that Harry had fallen ill and couldn’t partake in the show, and that Harry wished he could perform and how sorry he was for being ill. I missed my queue more than once and the other had to cover for me, I couldn’t concentrate, and my mind was with Harry. I did my best to stay strong and it worked until we were all piled in the van and a broken sob tore itself from my throat. I covered my face with my hands, hoping somehow the other hadn’t noticed I was crying, but of course they had. They all cuddled up against me and held me tight against them. Quiet voices whispering words that I think were meant to calm me down, but it only made it worse and soon I was choking on my sobs as I struggled to breathe.

“Do you want us to hold you or…?” Zayn started saying.  
“Y..ee…s.” I hiccupped between sobs.

They held me tighter as the sobs wracked my chest and made my whole body tremble.

My heart pounded, thoughts swirling, I had been hyperventilating long enough for my fingers to go numb.

“What… what… it w..as… a… hear.. heartatt…ack or a… stroke… what if… he’s… de…de…dead…”   
“He’s fine, Lou. He’s okay. He’s alive. Just relax and breathe, okay?” Zayn mumbled against my hair.

I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t breathe. My sobs got harder, my whole body shaking violently and could feel them all cuddling closer, holding me. It was almost as if them holding me was all that was preventing me from falling to small, small pieces that maybe couldn’t be repaired.

**

It felt as an eternity before we were finally at the hospital. They let me go, getting ready to get out of the car. I stopped them, looked up.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled under my breath.   
“It’s okay to cry, Lou.” Liam said and Niall and Zayn nodded in agreement, all three of them having unshed tears clouding their eyes.

I just nodded before we pushed the car door open and got out.

**

I saw Gemma as soon as we came into the waiting-room, she was pacing while speaking on the phone. I just about to approach her when a doctor came out and she quickly followed him into one of the rooms. I was about to go after her when a nurse stopped me and told me that ‘Mr. Styles’ couldn’t have too many visitors at the same time. I almost made it over to the lads before my knees gave out and I crumbled to the floor.

“I need my Harry!!” I screamed, sobs tore itself through my chest.

Seconds later I was full on crying, tears streaming down my face, loud, hacking sobs emitting from my throat.

“Ple…se tak..e me… to… my…Ha…rry, pl…ea…se.” 

I could vaguely feel someone putting their arms around me, holding me. I tried fighting back and getting free, but I were too weak and gave up, surrendering to the comfort.

**

Half an hour later I had cried myself dry, the arms around me still there, an everlasting comfort. It wasn’t until I heard Gemma’s voice that I moved, this time getting helped to my feet.

“Is he okay? Is he dead? What happened? Is he alive?” I rambled of questions in such a pace that it was impossible for Gemma to neither hear nor answer them. She looked at me, waiting for me to repeat the questions.

“Is he dead? Is he okay?” I said, slower this time.  
“He’s severely dehydrated, but alive.” Gemma answered sadness very obvious in her voice.   
“What happened?”   
“He fainted because he’s severely dehydrated and malnourished.”  
“What happened now, when we came here and you run off?”  
“He freaked out and they had to sedate him. You can go in and see him now if you want, I’m going to call mom back. He’s gonna be okay, Lou.” She said, gave me a quick hug before walking away, phone already against her ear.

I turned to the boys who all nodded in the direction of Harry’s room, indicating they wanted me to go in. So I did, thinking I was prepared for what I was going to see, but wow was I wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the crappiness. And I'm sorry for not updating. It's not an excuse, but I've been struggling with my demons the last couple of days and they have hindered me from writing.  
> Hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and you'll make my day if you leave kudos or a comment.  
> Big Love xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everybody say yay! it's a new chapter! thank you for having patience with me and my incredible slow updates. i give you my sincerest apology and will try be get better on updating!

**Louis POV**

He was so skinny, so, so skinny and so pale, so pale his skin almost looked translucent. And he was so still. He was never still when he was sleeping, always moving around, changing position, kicking me and almost always it ended with him having the majority of the bed to himself while I was on the edge. Maybe he was dead. He looked dead. But Gemma had said he was alive. But he looked dead. The walls were closing in on me, I was struggling to breathe, thoughts whirling. He was dead. Gemma had lied. Gemma never lied. But he was dead. And Gemma had said he wasn’t. I looked at him, searching for movement, any sort of movement, not finding any. That’s when I really freaked out. I grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking him, screaming at him to wake up, to not leave me, to not be dead.

Then there was a whirlwind of blue and white and arms grabbing me and shouting and running and more shouting and a sting and then everything became blurry and I slowly sunk into darkness.  

**

When my eyes fluttered open I was met by three pairs of worried eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Niall asked, sitting down on the bed.

I ignored his question, partly because I didn’t know how I was feeling. I took in my surroundings, realizing I wasn’t at home.

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice filled with panic.  
“We’re in the hospital…”

I didn’t hear the rest of Liam’s sentence. My brain was bombarded with memories, everything came back. Harry collapsing, the gig without Harry, the endless waiting, all the tears, Harry’s skinny, pale body, how he looked dead, how I couldn’t breathe and then black. I shot up from the bed. Harry. Dead.

“Is Harry dead?” I asked, my voice probably louder than I expected, judging by their reactions.   
“He’s alive. He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”   
“He’s alive?”  
“Yes, do you want me to take you to him?”  
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Liam led me down a corridor I couldn’t remember.

“But Harry is not here.”  
“He was moved from the ICU to the psychiatric unit when he woke up and they had spoken to him.” Liam explained and it felt as if I had a lump of burning coal lodged in my chest.

**

We were just about to go into Harry’s room when a doctor came out.

“You’re Louis, right?”

I nodded.

“I need to have a word with you before you go in and see him.”

I nodded again.

“He is severely dehydrated and malnourished. His blood pressure is 80/50 and it should be at least 120/80. His heart rate is 45bpm and it should be somewhere between 60 and 80 bpm. His levels of sodium and potassium are dangerously low. I’m sorry to inform you that he meets almost all the requirements for anorexia. We are giving him nutrient-IV at the moment and then we’re going to start him on a re-feeding plan tomorrow. I can also refer you to the best psychologist in Australia.”  
“Can I see him now?” I asked, not really absorbing the information I just received.   
“Yes, just page me if it is anything.”   
“We will.”

Harry was sitting up in the bed, his long lanky fingers picked at the IV-needle.

“Don’t do that, please.” I said and he looked up, shock written over his face before relief took over.   
“Lou-bear…” He said, his voice raspier than usual.

I sat down beside his bed and took the one hand that wasn’t connected to IV-line.

“What have you done to yourself, baby?”  
“There is nothing wrong with me.”  
“You have an eating disorder, Harry.”   
“No I don’t!”  
“You do.”  
“No, Louis, there is nothing wrong with me!”  
“Then why are you in the hospital?”

The heart monitor picked up speed, Harry tore his hand out of my grip, his arms flailing around. It all went so fast. The heart monitor freaked out and Harry was seconds away from ripping the IV out when strong arms pinned his body to the bed.

“You need to calm down, Mr. Styles.”  
“THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! WHY WON’T ANYONE BELIEVE ME?” He yelled at the top of his lungs, tears of frustration and anger wetting him cheeks.   
“If you don’t calm down, we will have to sedate you, Mr. Styles.”

I didn’t want to do this, I did really not want to do this.

“Harry, Hazza-bear. Listen to me, okay? You’re okay. There is nothing wrong with you. You are fine. There is nothing wrong with you. You need to calm down, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?”

Each word burnt as if they were on fire.

“There is nothing wrong with you, my little Hazza-boo.”

The heart monitor went down to a more normal rate, Harry becoming completely still on the bed.

“Lou?” He sounded so small, so vulnerable.   
“Yes, babycakes. I’m here. You are fine. You are okay. There is nothing wrong with you. You just need to breathe, okay?”

I motioned for the nurses holding him down to let him go, that I could handle it by myself. They were reluctant but did as I asked. I took Harry’s hand in mine, placing it on my chest before putting my hand on his chest.

“You’re okay. You’re fine. There is nothing wrong with you.”

I repeated the words over and over again until his eyes fluttered close and he fell asleep. I leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“I love you so much.”

**

When I got back into the waiting room my knees gave out and I choked out an inaudible ‘help’ before falling to the floor. Fresh, hot tears streaming down my cheeks as Niall and Liam helped to my feet, practically caring my over to the couches were I collapsed, Niall sitting down beside me, holding me close. I vaguely heard someone, probably Zayn or maybe Liam talking to someone on the phone. Everything was a blur. How could I have missed this? How did I miss all the signs? How could I not have seen it happening? If I had noticed earlier I could have stopped it from getting this bad. I could have done something, anything, to make him not hurt this bad. I was barely aware the strong arms lifted me up and carried me down to the van.

My mind had cleared a bit when we arrived at the hotel and I was out of the car before anyone could say anything. Tears still running down my cheeks as I made my way past the fans waiting outside the hotel. As soon as I came to my, and Harry’s, hotel room I kicked off my shoes and sat down on the bed with my laptop. I searched thoroughly and read everything I could on symptoms and complications, stories of recoveries and stories that had ended in a nightmare. I read about statics and death-rates until I couldn’t see anything through my tears. I closed the laptop, curled up on the bedspread, not bothering to take of my clothes nor crawling under the duvet, and cried myself to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry the chapters are so short and that I update so slowly.  
> And please, please leave a comment, it means so much, so much to me. Maybe more than you can ever imagine.
> 
> And if you feel sad or wants to talk, I'm here and also this is a box of hugs --> [ ]  
> xx

**Louis POV**

When I woke up I was dazed and it felt as if I had slept for days, but I still felt dead-tired. My head felt like it weighed a ton and I couldn’t fully open my eyes. It took me a while to recognize my surroundings and remember yesterday’s events. When I did I practically jumped out of the bed, searching for my phone. Suddenly I heard it vibrate and the display lit up. I grabbed it and my heart jumped into my throat when I saw Liam’s number flash across the display. I slid my finger to accept the call and putting my phone to my ear.

“Liam, what’s wrong?”  
“Nothing, I just called to see if you were awake.”  
“I am. When are we going to the hospital? I want to see my harry.”  
“We’re already here. He freaked out this morning and when Gemma didn’t get any answer from you she called me and asked us to come to the hospital. He wants to see you too, been bugging us and has been asking about you and when you’re coming and why’re not here yet. Been pretty annoying to be honest…”  
“Is he okay?”  
“He is as okay as he can be. Just give Paul a heads up and he will give you a ride to the hospital, okay?”  
“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

I wanted to ask so many questions, like why Harry had freaked out and why they hadn’t woken me up. We hung up and didn’t bother changing out of yesterdays out, being fashionable wasn’t top of my priorities right now, getting to Harry was.

**

I arrived to the hospital fifteen minutes later.

“You look like a wreck, man.” Niall said, forcing a smile.  
“Well thank you.”  
“Sorry. You okay?”

I shrugged.

“I had no idea crying could be this exhausting.”

Niall enveloped me in a tight hug.

“It’s going to be okay, promise.”  
“You don’t know that.” I said and wriggled out of his embrace. I needed to see Harry, my Harry.

As I opened the door to Harry’s room I was greeted with loud voices, Harry’s and Gemma’s.

“…how low your levels are? Some are so dangerously low that you could die. Your potassium is so low your heart could give up. Don’t you understand that you could…”

I tuned out. I couldn’t hear anymore. I knew it all. I knew that his levels were so low he could die. I didn’t need to hear it. I don’t think that I would be able to handle hearing it. Harry must have heard me entering because soon I heard him begging me to tell Gemma that there was nothing wrong with him. I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell her that there was nothing wrong with her brother. I just couldn’t. It was so painfully obvious that there was something seriously wrong with him. He had an eating disorder. Harry continued pleading for me to tell Gemma that he was okay, that there was nothing wrong with him while Gemma continued trying to get Harry to face the fact that he had a problem.

“…and you will start this re-feeding program today. If not then there will be no Japan for you, then you and me are flying back to England TODAY! Understood?!”

Without waiting for a response she stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with Harry.

Everything became totally silent in the room, apart from the steady beeping from all the machines Harry was hooked up to.

“Harry?” I said after a while.

No response what so ever.

“Hazza?”I tried a couple of minutes later.

Still no response. I slumped down in one of the armchair, unconsciously starting to twiddle my thumbs.

**

After twenty minutes of silence a doctor came into the room.

“Good morning Mr. Styles.”  
“For god’s sake call me Harry!”  
“No reason to get angry, Harry.”

Harry just shrugged and turned his gaze away.

“We need a weight to set up the re-feeding program properly. So if you come with me we’re going to weigh you, okay?”

Harry slowly rose from the bed, swaying slightly, grabbed the IV-pole and followed the doctor. Before leaving the room he turned around to me.

“You coming, Lou?”  
“Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.”

He nodded and waited for me to get up before continuing walking.

**

His whole fragile frame shivered in the thin hospital gown. It wasn’t really that cold in the room but when he stepped onto the scale goose bumps appeared on his neck and legs.

I saw how he sneaked a quick look at the display on the scale and when I saw the smile it felt like being stabbed. I knew then that he had lost weight. I knew that he weighed less now than the last time. I didn’t know when he last weighed himself or how much, how little, he had weighed last time, I just knew that he had lost weight and then that fucking smile. It was like he was proud that he had lost weight, and that hurt.

**

“There are two different options that you can choose now. Either you follow a re-feeding program that is based on nutrient-drinks or you follow one where you eat regular food. Both have the same calorie-count. The calorie-count as well as the increase of calories you eat is all based on your weight…”  
“Are you out of your minds? I am not eating this much! No way! There is absolutely no way I am eating that much!!!”

I looked down at the paper in my hands again.

~   
Weight: 93 lbs  
Height: 5ft11in  
BMI: 13

Day 1-3

Breakfast: 100 ml  
Mid-morning: 50 ml  
Lunch: 100 ml  
Mid-afternoon: 50 ml  
Evening meal: 100 ml  
Supper: 100 ml

Total: 530 kcal  
~

He thought this was too much. Too much. 530 kcal. He thought it was too much. It was too much to take it. Too much information. Too much emotions. Too much thoughts and worries.

“Harry, if you don’t begin to eat you’re going to die. Do you understand that?”  
“I don’t care!”


	11. Chapter 11

**Harrys POV**

I saw how his face was drained of emotions before he turned around and left.

“I didn’t mean it. Not like that. I don’t want to die. I didn’t mean it, Gem. I need him. I didn’t mean it… I didn’t… I… did… n’t… I didn’t… mee… ean… iiit…”

I couldn’t get any more words out. I could barely breathe.

“Calm down, H. Breathe. I will go after him, just calm down and breathe okay?”

It took a couple of minutes for my breathing to return to normal.

“I didn’t mean it, Gem. I don’t want to die. I need him, Gem.”  
“Shut it. I’ll go talk to him and you pick a flavor, okay?” She said and gestured to the paper in front of me before she went to find Louis.

There were six different flavors of the nutrient-drink. I didn’t want any of them. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t get why they couldn’t understand that. That’s when I came up with a brilliant idea. I could eat, I’d just purge afterwards. Nobody needs to know anything. Everybody happy, they get their way, I eat, and I get mine, I get rid of it. Perfect.

**

“Harry…”

I looked up to see him standing in the door, arms hanging limply by his side, tears trickling down his cheeks. I bit my lip to keep myself from crying as well.

“Louis…”

At that he walked over to me, sitting down on the bedside. I put my non-attatched hand on his thigh.

“I didn’t mean it, I don’t want to die.” I said, low enough that only Louis could hear me.

I patted on the empty space on the mattress beside me and he understood immediately and soon we were as cuddled up and comfortable as you can be in a thin hospital-bed surrounded by beeping machines. I curled up, burying my face against his neck.

“I’m sorry.”

He just stroked my back, not saying anything.

“I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to die. Louis?”  
“Yeah, Haz?”  
“I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to die.”  
“I know, baby. I know.”

We lay like that until the voice in my head got to loud. _He’s too close._ I had tried fighting back, but it was pointless. Each time I fought back the voice got louder. _He is too close. He is going to feel all the fat. He is going to know how repulsive and disgusting you are._ I squirmed, trying to get him to let me go. It worked and I immediately missed his warmth and wanted nothing more than to cuddle up against him again. _Too close. Will feel all your fat. Will know how repulsive and disgusting you are._

“Haz, you okay?”

I nodded before rolling over, turning my back to him. It hurt, it really did, but it had to be done.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

I shook my head.

“Do you want me to get off the bed and sit in the chair instead?”

I nodded.

“It’s okay, babycakes.” He said and I could hear his joints cracking as he slowly sat up and got out of the bed.

_Good job, fatty._

**

Louis looked like he was about to say something more when the doctor came into the room again. This time she had six bottles with her, which I assumed was the damn nutrient-drinks. It turned out she wanted me to choose a flavor, having the idea that tasting them would make it easier. Was she out of her mind? I didn’t want any of them, which I told her.

“I don’t want any of them.”  
“It’s either these or regular food…”  
“…or going back to London.” Gemma, who had just come into the room, said.

I was about to ask if going back to London would involve food and eating, but of course it would. And it was as if Gemma had read my thoughts,

“And yes it will involve you eating.”  
“You said you don’t want to die, but if you don’t start eating you will die.”  
“I know, but there is nothing wrong with me.”

Louis and Gemma both looked away and it was like they wanted to say something, but refrained, choosing to remain silent instead.

**

I refused to taste. I refused to let the calories transform to fat on my body. I refused to lose my control. Louis and Gemma ended up tasting them instead.

“It’s not bad, it actually tastes like milkshake.”

I ignored him, looking into the wall, not wanting to risk meeting his gaze.  Louis ended up choosing Milk Chocolate. I didn’t really care anyway.

“When can I get out of here?” I asked suddenly.  
“They will discharge tomorrow afternoon.” Louis said, putting his hand on my back. I couldn’t help but flinch away from the contact. I tried to ignore the hurt that was radiating of him but it didn’t work and I could feel the tear rising and I didn’t even try to fight them.

**

The moment I dreaded was here. 100 ml of the thick, brown liquid had been poured into a glass, and was now standing on the table in front of me, taunting me. According to the info-paper it was 106 calories. Too much, way too much. And this was only the first glass of six that I was supposed to have today. And it didn’t help that I knew that it was impossible to purge. I was in the hospital for fuck sake, Louis was here, Gemma was here and the doctors went in and out. I didn’t have enough time alone to purge. I had to burn off the calories while everyone slept.

I could feel Louis gaze burning a hole through the back of my head and I wanted him to stop staring, I wanted to snap at him, I wanted to yell and scream at him. Or maybe it wasn’t him I was so incredible angry at, maybe it wasn’t Louis I wanted to yell and scream at. I swallowed the bad words, decided to just do it, to just drink it and get it over with.

I took one small sip and wanted nothing more than to spit it out again. I forced myself to swallow. I took one more sip, looking at Louis. His smile was so big; he even had the small crinkles by his eyes. I kept looking at his face while I continued sipping the hideous, calorie-filled liquid, watching his smile grow bigger and bigger for each sip.

Once I was finished I put the glass down and pulled the thin, itchy hospital blanket tightly around me. I felt bloated, so bloated and full. I felt fat and disgusting. Those calories were going to be absorbed and make me even fatter than I already was.

“Good job, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

Good job, yeah right. I should have shoved the fucking glass of the table, watched the liquid splash onto the floor. I shouldn’t have drunk it. Now those calories were going to make me fat, fatter and more repulsive than I already was and I hated it. I felt him putting his arms around me and no, just no, no, no, no, no.

“Don’t touch me!” My voice loud, making him flinch.   
“Harry, please just let me hold you.”

He sounded so hurt, so sad. But I just couldn’t let him hold me or even touch me right now. I couldn’t.


	12. Chapter 12

**Harry’s POV**

848 calories and 37 hours later I was finally being discharged. I couldn’t wait to get out of this place.

I had signed all the papers and was now only waiting for the lads and Gemma to show up to take me out of here. But it wasn’t five persons coming into my room, it was just four. Liam, Zayn, Niall and Gemma. Louis wasn’t there.

“Where’s Lou? Why isn’t he here? Is something wrong? Did anything happen?”

I could feel the panic build in my chest as I painted up the most horrific and horrible pictures of what could have happened, why he wasn’t here.

“I don’t know, he just refused to come out of the room…” Zayn started but I didn’t let him finish.  
“And you left him? What if he…”  
“Of course we didn’t leave him alone. Paul is with him. He literally forced himself into the room, probably thinking the same as the rest of us.” Niall explained.

I relaxed a little bit.

“He is okay, I promise, okay?” Gemma said.   
“How can you know that?”  
“He talked to me, probably knowing you’d freak out, and assured me he was okay, but that he just couldn’t come with us to pick you up.”

**

When we had gotten boxes with two weeks’ worth of nutrient-drinks, the last discharging-papers was signed and the IV was removed we were escorted down to the staff-garage, me in a wheelchair. I had started protesting, but then just sitting down since I felt like my legs might give out if I had walked.

Paul had told us that it was packed with fans outside the hospital, but I don’t think any of us where really prepared to see the masses of people outside. It wasn’t just fans, there were media and paparazzi too and I was glad we were already in the van and that the van had tinted windows.

My heart was hammering in my chest the whole ride back to the hotel. I wanted to talk to Louis, I needed to talk to Louis, to find out what I had done wrong to make him not want to come and pick me up.

It was a similar amount of fans and paparazzi at the hotel as it had been at the hospital. The information about me being discharged from the hospital must have gotten out. I was in no state to walk through a crowd like that, not physically nor mentally, so I was relieved when we drove down in some underground garage.

**Louis POV**

I had heard when they arrived. The fans screams had been loud enough to reach up to my room. Ten minutes later Harry came through the door, slightly stumbling. I was by his side in mere seconds, grabbing him around the waist, preventing him from collapsing. I half-carried him into the room, sitting him down on the bed. When I had made sure he wasn’t going to fall I quickly got a glass of water. When I got back to Harry he was lying down, eyes closed. I coaxed him to sit up and he did, leaning on me.

“Haz, can you please drink this water?”

He shook his head.

“Harry, please, just drink this.”  
“Don’t… want… to…”  
“Why not?”  
“I just don’t want to.”  
“Please, for me?”

He took the glass with a shaky hand and lifted it to his lips and took a few sips.

“Why didn’t you come with to pick me up from the hospital? Have I done something?”  
“It’s not you, it’s me.”   
“Okay, quit the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’-bullshit. Why?”  
“I thought you were mad at me.”  
“Why would I be mad at you?”  
“Because I forced you to drink that nutrient-drink.”  
“Oh, that.”

Silence. Everything went quiet. The memory came back, invading all my senses.

 _“I don’t want to drink it! I am not going to drink it!”  Harry screamed._  
“You have to! You heard the doctor. If you don’t start eating you’re going to die!”  
“I WONT DRINK IT AND THAT’S THE END OF IT!” 

_I took the glass from the table in front of him and pushed it against his lips. He turned his head away. I brought my free hand to the back of his head and turned it back and then held it still than tipping the glass back. The nutrient-drink spilled out and run along his tightly closed lips, down his chin and dripped down onto the hospital-gown. The thick liquid soaked through the thin material. Harry knocked the glass out of my hands and it shattered into a thousand pieces when it hit the floor._

_“Get out! Get out, NOW!”_

“I’m sorry for physically forcing you to drink it.”  
“I’m sorry for screaming at you.”  
“But you still have to drink those nutrient-drinks and you know that.”

Harry don’t say anything, just sits there, staring at the empty wall in front of him.

**

I watched him in the corner of my eye while I chewed on the now lukewarm spaghetti Bolognese. He sipped from his glass so slow, looked like it caused him pain each time he swallowed.

“Why do you make me drink this?” He muttered and it tugged painfully at my heartstrings.   
“We just really want you to get better, Harry. We love you so, so much.” Liam said.  
“There is nothing wrong with me!” He said before he took the last sip and then he slammed the glass onto the table and curled up in his seat.

The boys just nodded, I guess they didn’t want to upset him. I had to bite my lip, hard to keep from saying things that might make everything worse. I wanted to tell him that he had a freaking eating disorder. That he was sick, that he needed help. That he needed to eat or he would die. But I couldn't. I just couldn't.

**

When I had finished my food I pulled up the armrest between mine and Harry’s seat and cuddled close to him. He shifted away. I cuddled closer, he shifted away. I pulled him closer to me, he pulled away. I didn’t want to give up because I knew that it wasn’t Harry that didn’t want to be held, it was the disease. Soon enough he fell asleep and he instinctively cuddled up against me, subconsciously seeking warmth and comfort. Harry slept for the rest of the flight, his body being so exhausted and I refused to leave his side, keeping him cuddled up against me. I however couldn’t sleep, no matter how tired I was and how many times I yawned and was struggling to keep my eyes open. As soon as I closed my eyes I saw images of Harry, dead and skinny, so skinny and my eyes flew open again. So I kept my Harry close to me so I could feel that he was still warm, still alive and breathing.

**

At the airport there were fans, not many since it was 3.49 am. Harry insisted that we stopped and signed autographs for the thirty fans. He wobbled a couple of times and I wanted to run to him and grab his arm, but we couldn’t be seen close to each other in public. Zayn stayed close to him the whole time, making sure he didn’t crumble to the floor. When the fans had gotten their autographs we all piled into the van and were off to the hotel.

I was half-carrying Harry into our room and to the bed where I put him down. I grabbed his hoodie before I saw that he was shaking.

“You cold?”  
“Mhm.” He mumbled.

He cuddled up and I pulled the duvet over him. I shed my hoodie and my jeans before crawling down beside him. He nuzzled up against me and I put my arms around him and pulled him closer. And that’s how we fell asleep, in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have been horrible on replying to the comments, and I will try to get better, I also hope that it won't take very long before I am able to update again, already have the next chapter pretty much planned out :)   
> Lots of love xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!   
> Please comment.  
> If you want to talk --> @arkflikka on Twitter.  
> Enjoy!

**Harry’s POV**

“You are not performing, Harry.”   
“I’m most certainly am.”  
“No you’re not. You are too weak.”  
“I AM NOT WEAK!!” I shouted.

_You ARE weak, Harry._

“I am performing.” I said again.   
“On one condition, that you’re drinking your nutrient-drinks without complains.”  
“Fine.”

**

I did drink it. I did. And then I purged it. I was not going to keep it down and let my body absorb it and turn it into fat. It was hard, purging 100 ml, the acid burning my throat. But it felt good, that empty feeling.

My head pounded, black dots dancing in front of my eyes but I ignored it. I downed the last water from the bottle, fixing my hair one last time before we went onstage.

**Louis POV**

It was the second show in Tokyo, the last show of this tour. Harry was drinking his nutrient-drinks without much fuss, which I was thankful for. I was walking into the dressing-room with a smile on my face. The smile disappeared as soon as I saw him lying on the couch. He was wearing my [grey sweater](http://arkflikka.tumblr.com/image/78146784360) and he was literally swimming in it. My clothes used to be itsy-bitsy tight on him, but now…

As I got closer to the couch I could see that his fragile body was shaking. I crouched down and I saw tears running down his sunken cheeks. His skin was freezing to the touch.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I thumbed away some tears.

He just shook his head.

“Can I hold you?”

He shook his head again.

“I will get you a blanket, baby.”

I stood up and went to retrieve a thick blanket that I put over him, tucking him in properly. I wanted to do more. I wanted to hold him, but he didn’t want to be held, so I wouldn’t.

**

His voice was off. It was more hoarse than usual. It almost sounded like when you had… But he wasn’t… Was he? I had read about some anorexics, god I hated that word, that threw up the food they ate. I didn’t want Harry to be one of them. I didn’t want to believe that there was a possibility that he was throwing up the food.

It was after the show, and we were all back in the dressing-room. Harry was sitting on the same couch as before, sipping on a glass of water. I went over to him and sat down.

“Harry?”  
“Mhm.”

I lowered my voice before continuing:

“Harry, are you purging?”

For a brief second he looked like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie-jar, before a confused look took over.

“Of course not. Why would you think that?”  
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” I said and opened my arms, inviting him for a hug.

He accepted the hug and curled up against me.

**

**Harry POV**

I looked down on the shirt in my hands again. The shirt with the list of the Take Me Home-tour on that all of us had gotten. I couldn’t help but wanting to make a list of my own.

125 new cuts  
67lbs of fat lost  
8359 lies told  
8357 lies believed  
92 sleepless nights  
214 hours running  
208 hours spent in the gym  
1002705 hate-tweets  
23lbs of fat I still have to lose

All I could think when I looked down at the paper was ‘if I wasn’t so weak I could have lost more’.

**

When I woke up hours later Louis’ arms are around me, his fringe tickling my neck and soft puffs of air hitting the skin of my cheek as he breathed. I felt content. There was no urge to cut, no voice telling me to burn calories or starve or purge, it was just silence, a comfortable silence. I closed my eyes again, just enjoying the moment.

**Louis POV**

He was sleeping, cuddled up in my arms, head resting against my chest. He looked so content, no pain, no anguish, no anxiety, just calm. When we had landed in London and should be getting off the plane he was still asleep, his body and mind so exhausted. The thought of waking him up was physically hurting me and I wanted nothing more than to take him in my arms and carry him, but I knew I couldn’t, I knew I wasn’t allowed. I sighed and was about to shake him awake when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see Liam standing there.

“Let me.” Was all he said, but I understood what he meant and I couldn’t thank him enough.

Liam gingerly lifted him up, he stirred a little and I was quick to shush him so he wouldn’t wake up.

“It’s okay, baby, go back to sleep.”

He yawned, wrapped his skeletal-like limbs around Liam and buried his head against his neck. I had a feeling that if he had woken up more and been more alert he would probably have fought us and insisted that he was too heavy to be carried. I’m glad that didn’t happen. I tried to ignore the ‘God, he’s so light’ from Liam, focusing on making sure we didn’t forget anything on the plane.

**

We managed to get through the airport and into the waiting van without Harry waking up. In the van, just outside our house he woke up, gasping for air, terror obvious in his eyes. I took him in my arms, stroking his hair, humming softly. It took a good ten minutes before he relaxed against me, starting to fall asleep again. This time I didn’t care that I wasn’t allowed to be close to Harry in public and lifted him up in my arms. I ignored the looks from security as I carried Harry inside the house.

I put him down on the bed, starting to get up but he refused to let me go. So I kicked off my shoes, Harry had taken off his on the plane, and pulled the duvet over us both. It didn’t take long before he was sound asleep and I could wriggle out of his grip. I was so tired, but I couldn’t sleep. After changing into sweatpants and a hoodie I grabbed my laptop and sat down on the couch. Opening the internet and googling ‘eating disorder facilities london’.  


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry it has taken me almost a month to update, and I don't really have an excuse besides a major writers block. I really, really hate writers block.

**Louis POV**

It took him 17 hours from the moment we got home to collapse. I was making a snack when I heard a thud and when I turned around he was on the floor, unconscious. I froze, paralyzed with fear, panic washing over me like ice-cold water. I broke out of my trance-like-state and started searching for my phone, clumsy in my hurry to get an ambulance here as quickly as possible. Something crashed against the floor, I didn’t care what it was, my thoughts elsewhere. I crouched down next to Harry’s slumped form, phone in hand.

As I spoke to the paramedics Harry started to stir a little and attempted to sit up only to pass out again, this time I was there to catch him.

“He… he woke up… and trii…ed… to sit up… and then he… he passed out again…” I stuttered out, trying to keep from hyperventilating.   
“Take his pulse and check his breathing, okay?”

I did and told the paramedic. I heard him sucking in a breath and said something in a hushed voice that I couldn’t quite hear.

“We’re here.” He said a minute later.

I reculantly put Harry down on the floor when there was a soft knock on the door. I opened the door and then it’s all a big blur of green, yellow and words I didn’t understand.

The next time I became aware of my surroundings I was sitting in a chair, beside Harry’s bed, in the hospital.

I looked up at him. He was staring into the wall with empty eyes.

“You gave me quite a scare.” I said.  
“Sorry.” He mumbled, refusing to meet my eyes.

**

“When can I go home?” was the first thing he said when I came back after talking to the doctor.   
“They’re going to keep you overnight to make sure you’re hydrated and yeah…”

He simply nodded, knowing that it wasn’t worth fighting. It went silent and we both returned to our thoughts.

The doctor had told me that his potassium levels were 3.0 mEq/liter, which was lower in Japan and that that could indicate that he was purging. His other vitals, such as blood pressure and heart rate were lower as well.

There was a cautious knock on the door and I knew it was the doctor. He was going to give Harry 100 mEq of some potassium replacement drug called KCL. When he was done and had left the room I could feel Harry’s piercing stare in my neck. I turned around to face him but then he turned his eyes away.

“Harry, are you purging? And please don’t lie to me, just please don’t lie.”  
“No, I am not purging.”

I couldn’t help but feel hurt and betrayed. I knew he was purging, I just didn’t have any proof for it, beside the low levels of potassium.

**

When visiting hours was over I was forced to leave. The first thing I noticed when I got home was the broken china and splattered fruit on the floor. I must have knocked the bowl down when Harry collapsed. As I cleaned the mess away I saw that the light was on in the gym. When I was done I went into the gym and when I was about to turn the light off I saw the treadmills display blinking.

616 calories. 90 minutes. He had been running for an hour and a half. On almost zero energy. It made me feel sick. Why was he doing this to himself? Why did he have to punish himself? And the question that had been bothering me since I found out about his eating disorder: Why hadn’t I noticed sooner?

I called Preston, doing everything in my power to keep my tears at bay, and asked if he could help me get the training equipment removed from the house. He agreed and told me he would be there within an hour. I literally couldn’t thank him enough.

Two hours later the training equipment was in Preston’s basement and I had thanked him like five dozen times, and he had told me to shut up, telling me it was no trouble. I collapsed on the couch and fell asleep before I had a chance to take my clothes off.

**

I was awaken by the loud shrill of my ringtone. I looked at the caller-ID, seeing it was my mum.

“Hi mum.”  
“Hi Boo. I heard about Harry…How are you?”  
“He’s in the hospital. He’s so ill and he doesn’t even realize it. And I think he’s purging, his potassium is so low, but he keeps deniying it when I ask him. It was so low they had to give some potassium replacement drug. What if he dies?”

And then I broke down completely, choking on my sobs, trying to breath.

“That’s it. I’m coming down.”  
“No, no. I’m okay, really. I just don’t know how to cope with everything. And you  need to take care of the girls and yourself, and the babies, I will be okay, I promise.”  
“I don’t like it all, Lou, you need me.”   
“The girls need you more.”  
“Just promise me you’ll call if you need me, okay? To talk, to come down, to have a shoulder to cry on, anything, okay? And you’re coming home for Christmas, no arguments.”  
“I promise mum, and I’ll be fine okay, it’s just a lot.”  
“I know you’ll be okay, you’re strong.”

Just as I was about to say ‘I don’t feel very strong’ I heard another incoming call.

“Mum, I need to go, someone is calling me and it might be the hospital.”  
“Okay Boo. I love you, and don’t forget to call if you need me, okay?”  
“I won’t. Love you too mum. Tell the girls I love them and that I miss them very much.”  
“I will. Bye love.”  
“Bye.”

I hang up and answered the other call, which turned out to be from the hospital.

“Lou?”  
“Haz?”  
“Yeah, it’s me. When are you coming to pick me up? I want to get out of this place.”  
“Just let me put some clothes on and I’ll be on my way.”  
“Okay, hurry please. I miss you.”  
“Miss you too, silly. I’ll see you soon.”

We hang up, I changed clothes and grabbed a banana on my way out.

**

“Where is it?” He said, his voice a little panicky.   
“Where is what?”  
“The treadmill.”  
“Oh, I had it removed, alone with the rest of the training equipment.”  
“You can’t do that. It’s my treadmill.”  
“No, it’s OUR treadmill. And you can’t keep exercising like you are now.”  
“You can’t keep me from exercising. Take away one thing and I will find another.”  
“Is that a threat?”

He just shrugged before walking into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to proof read this chapther, oops!  
> Also I apologize if it's shit.   
> And please come with ideas, things you'd like to read about in my fanfiction.  
> Bye xx


	15. Chapter 15

**Louis POV**

It was the 8th of November when it happened. I had been out shopping nutrient-drinks for Harry and had just opened the front door when I heard it, the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. I put the bags and walked silently to the bathroom.

I knew I would find him bent over the toilet, throwing up, but I wasn’t anywhere near prepared for what I saw. He was wearing a white long-sleeved and as he was bent over the toilet his spine and ribs protruded so much you could see them through the thin fabric. He shoved his fingers down his throat again, and dry heaved with such force his whole body was trembling. He let out a strangled sob and I couldn’t help but to do the same. He whipped around in such speed I was afraid he would break something. 

“It’s not what it looks like.” He mumbled, his voice filled with panic.

I nodded, thinking ‘Yeah sure, whatever you say, but I know the truth’.

 

**Harry POV**

No. No. No. No. No. He knew. He knew. He couldn’t know. He shouldn’t know. He was not supposed to know, not now, not ever. I vaguely felt Louis lift me to my feet and over to the sink. He washed of my face and hands before leading me to the bed. He hadn’t said anything and it was starting to freak me out. I wanted him to say something, anything. I would be glad even if he yelled at me. Anything would be better than this silence.

I could feel the tears betray me and ran down my cheeks. My breath hitched as I tried to not let the sobs leave my chest.

**

“Lou, say something. Anything. Just please say something.” I begged.

Almost an hour had passed since he had found me in the bathroom, and he still hadn’t uttered a single word. And I was about to go completely crazy.

“They were out of milk chocolate so I took strawberry instead.”   
“Louis.”  
  
“What would you like me to say? ‘I hope strawberry tastes as good as milk chocolate on the way up’. You can’t keep doing it, you understand that don’t you?”  
“Don’t make a big deal out of it, because it’s not.”  
“It’s not a big deal? You’re making yourself throw up what you eat, or drink or whatever. And that’s a big deal, and I’m not going to pretend it’s not. I am not going to stand by anymore and watch you slowly kill yourself.”  
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I am not killing myself.”  
“You are. You are not giving your body the nutrient it needs and yes, you are slowly but surely committing suicide and I am not going to stand by and watch you do that to the person I love the most. Watching the person I care about so much, care so little about himself, it hurts. It hurts a lot.”  
“Lou…”  
“And I refuse to lose you to this disease.”  
“I don’t have any disease! There is nothing wrong with me!”

Without another word Louis rose from the bed and left the room. Seconds later I heard the front door shut.

“Please don’t leave me.” I whispered to the empty room.

**

It had been three days since he found me purging and neither of us had said anything about it and it suited me perfectly. I hadn’t been able to purge since he found out though, not with Louis keeping a constant eye on my every move. It was hard, to drink the nutrient-drinks and not be able to purge. I could practically feel the calories stick to my thighs and stomach. I just wished my thighs didn’t touch and that my stomach would be concave instead of fat and flabby.

So to made up for the calories I couldn’t purge by exercising, burning them off. At night, when I was sure that Louis wouldn’t wake up I went out and ran until every part of my body ached.

**

Today Lou was on a “date” with the beard. She had managed to make a couple of snide comments, which Louis didn’t hear of course, before they left.

I had spent the last two and half hours running and then purging. Not that there was much to get up considering I hadn’t consumed anything since breakfast, I just needed the burn. Now my whole body throbbed with pain, inside and out. My throat was burning, but I relished it, needed it. My legs trembled as I tried to get up from the couch. I fell back down feeling myself kind of space out, just sitting there staring into the wall with empty eyes, not being able to move. It was as if all my muscles had been locked in their position and I didn’t have the energy to unlock them.

**

Half an hour later I heard keys rattling in the lock and then a: “Harry. I’m home, darling.”

He came into the living-room seconds later and I used all the strength I didn’t have to try to get up from the couch and give him a proper greeting, only to fall back down.

“Harry?” His voice filled with panic, he was by my side in a flash.   
“You okay? What’s wrong? Please Harry say something. Talk to me.”  
“I’m okay.” I croaked.

He sighed and sat down beside me.

“You purged didn’t you?”

I was about to answer when he continued.

“And please don’t lie to me, because it’s obvious that you have. I’ve heard your voice so many times to know if you purged or not just by hearing it.”

I needed to get up, get away from him. I couldn’t sit here and listen to him talking about… that. So I tried to get up, only to fall back down yet again. I might have blacked out for a minute, because everything went black and it was completely silent.

“Harry? Harry?”   
“Harry? Please answer me? Are you okay?”   
“Harry? Harry!?”

I slowly opened my eyes to look up at him. Fear and panic was written all over his face.

“Harry, are you okay?”

When I didn’t answer this time either he started mumbling about going to the hospital and I managed to croak out a ‘I’m fine’. He didn’t believe me.

“You’re dehydrated. So either you drink a nutrient-drink or we go to the hospital.”  
“No, I’m not going to drink anything and you can’t force me to go the hospital.”  
“Either you drink this now or I will take you to the hospital, whether or not you want to. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“They just gonna force-feed me!” I shouted.   
“They will shove a fucking tube down my throat and pump those disgusting calories inside my body. Do you know what happens when you eat that much?!?” I continued.   
“You live!” Louis shouted back.

I tried to stop myself from crying, but soon tears were rolling down my cheeks and I was shaking from the violent sobs. I could vaguely feel Louis pull into a tight embrace.

“And I want you to live, Harry.” He whispered, voice almost inaudible, his breath tickling my ear.

**  
 **Louis POV**

I was brushing my teeth while working some lyrics for a new song over in my head. I had come up with a line I thought was perfect and wanted to ask Harry what he thought.

“H?”

No answer.

“Harry?”

Still no answer.

“Haz, you fallen asleep already?”

When I didn’t get an answer this time either I felt the fear rising within me. I walked into the bedroom, expecting to find him sound asleep. I did not expect to find him having a seizure. His hands were cramped up into claws against his chest; he was hyperventilating, his whole body twitching in a disturbing way. I freaked out and it felt like I couldn’t find my phone fast enough. It felt like an eternity before the paramedics arrived and then everything went really fast and before I knew we were at the hospital.

At the hospital the doctors soon established that the cause for the seizure was Harry’s extremely low levels of potassium. They had him hooked up to a huge IV-bag with a potassium-drip in one arm and a bag of magnesium in the other. He was hooked up to a heart-monitor and the beeping sound was really annoying. He drifted in and out of consciousness and they kept waking him up every hour to take his blood pressure and blood sugar. His fingers had so many pricks from them taking his blood sugar and it made me want to put band aids on them.

**

He had insisted that I’d bring our ‘his and hers’-blankets when I went home to get clothes and toiletries and of course I did.

His eyes were closed and he was half asleep when he mumbled:

“We are made to love, not hide. Why does it have to be so hard?”

I was about to respond when he continued.

“What would you do if I died?”  
“Kill myself.” I answered without a second thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I really like comments :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the shitty-ness of this chapter.

**Harry POV**

_Maybe I’m not that exceptional, maybe I’m not destined for greatness._

I had just closed my note-book when Lou sat down beside me on the bed.

“Never do that again.” He said.  
“Do what?” I was confused, I had no idea what he was talking about.  
“The seizu… you don’t remember?”

I shook my head, desperately trying to find the memory he was talking about.

“I wish I could though.” I said after a couple of minutes.  
“No, you don’t. You don’t want to remember that. I wish I could forget.”

I just nodded, not knowing what to say.

**

“Why do you hate me?” I mumbled as I sipped the hideous liquid.

At first he ignored me but then he mumbled: “I don’t.”

“Then why are you forcing me to drink this shit?”  
“You need them.”   
“No, I don’t.”  
“You do need them, I am not going to discuss this any further. You need them and that’s the end of it.”

He said and walked out of the room.

“No, I don’t.” I said, so quietly I thought he didn’t hear.   
But soon I heard: “You do need them.”

**

“I need new pants.”  
”You do?”  
”Yeah.”  
”How come?”  
”These are not skinny anymore.”  
“No, there not. If you want we can go shopping now?”   
“Yeah I’d like that. But what about management?”  
“Screw them. We should be allowed to go outside without their fucking permission.”

**  
 **Louis POV**

He had brought his normal size, and even bigger, with him into the fitting rooms. I wanted to cry and I wanted to shake him and make him realize that those sizes were not going to fit him. I had brought the smallest size with me, shuddering at how small they were. He tried the pants he had brought first, ignoring my attempts to try and get him to try on the smallest size.

“These don’t fit.”

He sounded genuinely surprised and I wanted to say ‘Of course not, you’re too skinny for them to fit.’

“Here try these on.” I said and handed over the pants I was holding.   
”These are 26in. I will never fit into them.”  
“Just try them on, please.”  
”Why? So you can make fun of me when they don’t fit?”  
“No Harry.”

He grabbed the pants forcefully out of my hand and quickly closed the curtain to the fitting room. I took a seat in one of the chairs outside the fitting rooms, waiting for him to try them on.

Only minutes later I heard quiet whimpering and soft sobbing coming from behind one of the curtains.

“Harry?”

No answer.

“Haz?”

When I don’t get an answer by the third time I start to get worried and decided to check if it was Harry that was crying or if he just ignored my for making him try on the pair of pants. When I slid the curtain open it felt as if my heart sank down to my stomach. He was sitting on the floor in just his shirt and underwear, knees drawn up to his chest, crying. I sank down on my haunches beside and cautiously  put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched away from the touch as if I had given him an electric-shock.

“Harry, baby can I hold you?”

The only answer I got was him inching closer to me. I took that as permission to hold him and slowly put my arms around him and he immediately snuggled closer to me.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe, okay? You’re okay. Your old pants are fine, forget about these new pants. It’s okay, just breathe okay baby?”

It took a while for him to calm down and when he did I said:

“That’s it, baby-cakes. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

We ended up leaving through the staff entrance without new pants.

**

**Harry POV**

There was a knock on the door and I unwillingly got up from the couch and went to open the door. When I saw who was on the other side of the door I regretted getting up and opening the door. It was the beard. I didn’t even get a hi out before she started with her mean, but true, comments.

“I had hoped you wouldn’t be here so I wouldn’t have to see your fat and disgusting body. You’re so pathetic and it’s beyond me how anyone can love you. I bet you could kill yourself and Lou wouldn’t even notice, nor ca…re.”

None of us had noticed that Louis had come into the room before his booming voice made the walls vibrate.

“How dare you say those things to him?”   
“Because it’s true.” She said and I had to try my hardest not to nod my head, because she was right, what she was saying was true.   
“Fuck you! FUCK YOU!”  
“Have a problem hearing the truth, huh, little gay-boy.”  
“My problem right now is that you say mean, disgusting and 300% untrue words to Harry. This ends right now.”  
“And what are you going to do about it, huh?”  
““Break up” with you, maybe?” He said and did quotation marks with his hands.   
“If you do that then I will tell everyone about poor, little Harry.”  
“You wouldn’t dare, beside who would believe you?”

He took a few steps closer to her and she stepped away from him. He walked after, she backed away, he followed and she backed away, until her back hit the wall. He grabbed her chin, making her look at him.

“If you utter a single word about Harry to anyone, you’ll regret it dearly.”  
“What’s you gonna do?”

Then it all happened very quickly. Louis’ hand connected with the beards cheek, leaving an angry, red mark. When the chock had died down I walked as quickly as I could over to them, and grabbed both of Louis’ hands so he wouldn’t hit her again.

“We’re going to the management headquarters.”

**

Back home, with a deal no one of us liked, I headed straight for the bathroom, locking the door behind me, ignoring when Louis called out for me.

_If anything happens it’s my fault._

_Even if nothing happens, it’s still my fault._

I let the razor trace the old scars before pressing it down, relishing in the pain. I deserved it, I deserved the pain. I only caused everyone trouble. I was a waste of space. I shouldn’t be here. Everything would be so much better for everyone if I wasn’t here, if I didn’t exist. I pressed down again and again and again until there were seven new cuts. Silent tears rolled down my face as I watched the blood leave me along with the pain I carried inside.

I cleaned the cuts up and put on a bandage, pulling the sleeve of my shirt down. After hiding the evidence and washing the tear tracks away I went out of the bathroom. Louis was laying on the couch, light snores filled the room.

“Lou?” I cooed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on sweet cheeks, let’s go to bed.”

He grumbled but stirred and slowly got up and followed me to the bedroom. We crawled into bed and he pulled me close to him, I put my head on his chest, letting the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat take me away to dreamland.


	17. Chapter 17

**Harry POV**

I knew I was acting like a child, but I didn’t care. I knew that knocking four nutrition-drinks over was unnecessary and immature, but there was no way I was drinking them. When Louis threatened to take me to the hospital if I didn’t drink, and I was not going to drink, much less going to the hospital, so I locked myself in the bedroom, refusing to come out.

Louis was sitting outside the door, asking, begging me to come out, promising he wouldn’t make me go to the hospital.

“Do you have any idea how much I miss you. I miss being able to have a meal with you like before, I miss being able to put my arms around the guy that holds my heart without being afraid to break his bones and I miss being able to look into his beautiful eyes without them looking all dry and empty. Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to see you like this? ANY? AT ALL?”

Then he started crying. Loud, hacking sobs. I couldn’t stand it, and I knew I should open the door and hold him, but I couldn’t I just couldn’t, so instead I put my headphones in and started the music. With  blasting in my ears I let my thoughts take me away.

**

“Harry! Harry!”  
“Harry I am going to break down the door if you don’t come out now!”  
“We are going to be late for the book-signing if you don’t come out now.”

That made me come back to reality, I couldn’t let the fans down.

**

The hunger cramps hadn’t been this painful for a while, and the room wouldn’t stop spinning, my vision was slowly but surely fading to black and before I could do anything I was swept away into darkness.

**Louis POV**

I’m signing book after book as I make small-talk with the fans when I suddenly hear a panicked voice.

“He’s not moving. He’s not breathing.”

My head jerked up, looking over at Harry. He was laying with his head on the table, fans shaking him to try to get a reaction out of him. I rose so fast the chair fell over and was by his side in seconds, not caring about management or what the fans thought, my only focus right now was Harry.

“Everyone move away, make some space!” Paul shouted.

Liam lifted him up before laying him down on the carpeted floor, Niall’s bundled hoodie under his head. I sat down beside him, taking his hand in mine.

“The ambulance is on its way.” Someone said and I couldn’t bother to turn away from Harry to find out who it was.

A minute later his eye fluttered open and he blinked a couple of times before focusing on me.

“You okay?” I bent forward and whispered in his ear.   
“I’m fine.” He answered and started getting up from the floor.   
“No, you stay down. You just passed out, take it easy.”  
“I’m fine.” He said again and brushed away my hand before standing up, only swaying a little.

When the ambulance had arrived Paul started lifting Harry up to carry him, but Harry swatted his hands away, insisting he was fine. Paul looked over at me and all I could do was slowly shaking my head. Paul took the lead, making a way through the crowd, and we all quickly followed. Half-way to the door Harry fainted again, fell helplessly towards the ground. Zayn grabbed him before he hit the floor, lifted him up, holding him to his chest before continuing walking.

**

He looked so small, so fragile. With closed eyes and pale skin he looked so drained of life. I could feel the tears burn behind my eyelids, wanting to be let out, I refused to let them. I grabbed his left hand, the one without the IV-drip.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

I didn’t get an answer and I hadn’t expected one.

**

**Harry POV**

An hour later the doctor came into the room with hospital cart full of supplies I had never seen before.

“Since you refuse to eat we are going to have to put in a feeding tube.”  
“No, no, no. No, you can’t do that.”  
“Actually we can.”

I looked at Louis for help only to met by a slight nod.

“You’re sectioned because you refuse treatment.”  
“How could you?! How could you do this to me?”  
“I can’t stand beside and watch you waste away, I can’t.” Louis said.

I turned away from him. How could he do this to me? How did he dare ruin everything I worked so hard for? I was interrupted from my thoughts by the doctor’s voice.

“We need you to lie down and stay completely still, okay?”

When I didn’t do as they asked me to strong hands gently pushed me down against the bed.

“This is going to be much easier if you co-operate with us.”

_Like that’s gonna happen._

I felt something going into my right nostril. I hit the doctor’s arm and the tube slid out.

“Harry please.” Louis’ voice.  
“We need you to be still so that we won’t hurt you.” The doctor’s voice.

Again the tube went into my right nostril, and again I fought back, flailing my arms around, hitting the doctor’s arms, chest. The tube was gone. Only seconds later strong arms pinned me to the bed and then the tube was back. This time I couldn’t fight against them even if I tried, and I tried my hardest but they were too strong. I felt the tube going further inside me and when it hit the back of my throat I gagged, turning my head from side to side to get away from the feeling.

“Bend your head backwards please.”

When I didn’t I felt Louis hand’s on the back of my head and I tried to fight. The tube went farther down, and I gagged again. Tears started to make their way down my cheeks. I gagged again, more tears, more gags. They shoved a plastic-cup to my lips, wanting me to take small sips of water to help the tube down. I didn't want the tube. More gags and more tears. I couldn’t breathe. I dry heaved, some bile trickling down the side of my chin. I kicked my legs, tried my best to break my arms free from their grip. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Stop, stop, pull the fucking tube out! Can’t you see he can’t breathe?”

_Love you Louis._

The doctors stopped and pulled the tube out.

I tried to take a deep breath but ended up gagging so hard I threw up. Since I hadn’t eaten anything it was just stomach acid. I spit into the small basin that one of the doctors held in front of me. Louis stroked my back, humming softly.

**

**Louis POV**

It took hours to get him to calm down. Hours of me holding him close, cuddling him against my chest. Hours of whispering soothing words _‘You’re okay.’ ‘You’re fine.’ ‘I love you so much.’ ‘That’s it, breathe with me, in and out, just like that.’_ Hours of singing softly into his ear, stroking his hair, twirling the strands between my fingers. It took him hours to finally calm down, falling asleep against me, his head against my chest, a reassuring weight that he was still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait.
> 
> I kind of need your help for the next chapter. Harry is going to do a twitcam, answering fans question, and yeah. What would you like to ask, please help me come up with questions, PLEASE!! :) :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to let you know (again) that I love comments and kudos.  
> Enjoy! :)

**Louis POV**

“We’re going to have to sedate him to put the feeding tube in.” The doctor, whose name I hadn’t bothered to remember, explained and all I could do was nod.  
“I also highly recommend contacting an inpatient facility for eating disorders.” The doctor continued.  
“I have, we’re on the waiting list.”

And that’s was the end of that conversation. When the doctor, her name might have been Patell, was half way through injecting the sedative Harry started waking up. Before he fully woke up there were two other doctors holding him down so that he didn’t have the chance to get away. He turned to me when he realized he wouldn’t get away from the doctors.

“Make them stop. Lou, please make them stop. Please, make them stop.”

He kept begging me as Dr. Patell injected the last of the sedative and I had to try my hardest not to cry, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. The last thing I wanted to do was to cry in front of Harry, I hated crying in front of people, especially Harry. And now was the worst timing ever.

Only a single tear escaped before the sedative had fully kicked in and Harry was out, but when he was totally out of it the dams burst, I managed to stagger into the hallway before my legs gave out and collapsed onto the floor, crying.

“Louis?”

I look up to find Liam, Zayn and Niall standing there.

“You okay? Did something happen?” Zayn said, crouching down, putting a hand on my knee.   
“No, I just need some time alone.” I got out between sobs.   
“You shouldn’t be alone in a situation like this, Louis.” Niall said, crouching down as well.  
“I just need to be alone, I’m okay, I just need to be alone.”  
“You sure?” Niall asked.  
“Yeah, I’ll be fine, I promise. You guys should go home and get some sleep.”  
“We’re not leaving you, nor Harry.” Liam said, Niall and Zayn nodded in agreement.  
“Can I just be alone for a while?”  
“Okay, just… How’s Harry?”

I couldn’t force any words out, I just sat there gaping, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Come on, Louis, you can’t sit in the corridor, okay, let’s see if there’s somewhere you can sit and be by yourself for a while, okay?”

I nodded and grabbed Liam’s outstretched hand. He helped me stand, put an arm around my waist to steady me and we walked down to the nurses-station, Niall and Zayn behind us. There was a small room right next to Harry’s that I could be in and I wanted to thank the nurse, but couldn’t find the words.

“We’ll be in the cafeteria if you need us, okay?” Zayn said.

I nodded.

“Can I at least give you hug?” Niall asked.

I nodded again and he enveloped me in a warm hug. When he let me go Zayn and Liam hugged me as well before reluctantly leaving me alone.

**

An hour later there was a gentle knock on the door before Dr. Patell came into the room.

“I’m sorry to disturb you but the sedative is starting to wear off and there is a possibility that he will freak out and I thought that having you there would calm him.”

I got up so quickly I got lightheaded for a second.

She led me into Harry’s room and she was right, he was waking up. Suddenly his eyes flew open and he gulped in a huge breath of air. Before I had a chance to get over to him he started pulling on the tube.

“Harry stop.”

His head snapped up and he looked at me. His fingers still on the tube and I grabbed his hand, gently prying it away from his cheek.

“Stop it. The tube’s staying in, you know that. And if you don’t stop trying to pull it out they will restrain you and I don’t think you want that, do you?”

He shook his head, looking down on our hands, a soft, but broken sob tore itself from his chest.

“It’s okay, Haz.”  
“It’s not, it’s not okay. I don’t need the tube. There is nothing wrong with me. I don’t understand why you and everyone else keeps insisting that I’m sick when I’m not. I’m fine.”  
“Harry, please stop. Please stop talking like that. You have to accept that you have an eating disorder…”  
“I don’t. You all need to accept that I’m fine.”  
“You’re not fine. You have an eating disorder, a life-threating illness.”  
“I’M NOT SICK!”  
“YOU ARE!”

He curled into himself, crying, tears running down his sunken cheeks.

“I don’t know how else you would explain why you’re in the hospital with a feeding tube?”

I didn’t get an answer, not that I had expected one, but his silence still hurt.

**

“It hurts Louis, please it stop.”   
“What hurts, Hazza?”  
“My tummy.” He said, and he sounded so small and childlike, so vulnerable.   
“Your stomach isn’t used to food, that’s why it hurts. I could rub if you want, that might help.”

He visibly tensed at that and I’m about to apologize for suggesting it, but he scooted over giving me space to sit behind him. Careful of the feeding tube I climb onto the bed, making him lean back against my chest.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” I said before lightly placing my hands on his stomach.

I tried not gasp at how concave his stomach was, how I could clearly feel the outline of his ribs as well as his protruding hipbones. I rubbed softly in small circles, feeling how tense his stomach was. I could feel him flinch, and I didn’t know if it was because I pressed to hard or because of the fact that I was touching him.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He seemed to have an inner debate with himself before he shook his head.

“No, it helps.”

A little while later he tensed up, bad and I stilled my hands.

“Stop. Please stop.”

I quickly removed my hands from his stomach before getting of the bed, sitting down in the chair.

“I’m sorry, Haz.”

He simply nodded and turned away from me, and I tried not to feel hurt, but I did.

**  
 **Harry POV**

I knew the fans were worrying, even though they didn’t have to, I was fine. I had thought about sending a tweet telling them that I was fine and that they didn’t have to worry, but I had changed my mind. That’s why I had a twitcam set up on my phone, view count already on 56 342 and steadily going up, and I hadn’t even started yet. I pushed the button to go online and in a second the comments exploded.

“Hi guys. I just wanted to come on and tell you that I’m fine and that you don’t have to worry. I thought about just tweeting, but you guys deserve more than that. And I thought I could answer some questions while I’m on.”

I read over the comments and questions that kept coming in. There was a lot of “FOLLOW ME!”-tweets, as well as the naughty tweets that made me wonder how old they were and if they really should know those kind of words. There was also a lot, A LOT of tweets in style with “How are you?” “Are you okay?” Then there was one that caught my eye: “You could do with losing another 20lbs, you fatass!” _You totally could, and even then you won’t be perfect, you will never be perfect._ I’ll show you, I thought, I could really do with losing another 20lbs and I would if it wasn’t for Louis and the lads and doctors.

I knew I shouldn’t mention his name, but what the hell.

“Someone asked and I quote: “How’s Louis, he looks so tired.” Well it’s been a while since we had a break and we’re all tired to be honest, but you guys always make all the hard work so worth it.”

A few other comments that caught my eye was: “You’re so weak, you can’t even do anything right.” “Why are you so skinny?” _You’re not skinny, Harry. You’re fat, they’re just lying to you. They just want to make you even fatter than you already are. Don’t listen to them._

About twenty minutes later, after answering some more questions I said good bye and disconnected the twitcam. I put my phone down and could feel the tears burn behind my eyelids. _You’re so weak._


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very short and it's really crappy, or I think it is. Pray with me that this horrible writers-block will let me go so I will be able to write some non-crappy stuff :)

**Harry POV**

The airport was crowded, no crowded was an understatement, it was people everywhere. It was chaos, paps shoving their cameras in our faces, flashes everywhere that made it almost impossible to see anything, fans grabbing and pulling at you, as if they were trying to rip of a piece and keep it. There were so much people, so little space I couldn’t see where I sat my feet. The feeding tube must have gotten stuck in something or someone because all of a sudden the tape holding it in place was ripped off, leaving my cheek burning, and then it was gone, all that was left was the burning cheek and an acidy taste in the back of my throat.

Everything started closing in on my after that. I don’t know how I kept walking; maybe someone was pushing me along. That would explain why I kept moving despite my lack of coordination. I was pushed into the van, the door slid shut and everything went silent.

**Louis POV**

“That was mental!” I let out a dry laugh. “Wasn’t that the craziest thing ever?”

No response. I turned my head and noticed Harry. He was hyperventilating, clutching his chest.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Harry, are you okay?” Niall said sank down on the floor in front of Harry, taking Harry’s hands in his own.

“Harry, I’m going to ask you some questions, okay? Squeeze my hand once if yes and squeeze two times for no, okay?”

Harry gave a tiny nod.

“Is it hard to breathe, Harry?” Niall asked and I watched their joined hands to see if it were one or two. When I couldn’t see anything I looked at Niall for an answer and I was met with a slight nod.

“Does your chest hurt?” Another nod from Niall.

Niall must have seen the flash of panic in my eyes because he took one of his hands from Harry and grabbed mine, replacing it in one of Harry’s hands so that me and Niall now held one each.

“Does it feel like it’s an elephant sitting on your chest?”

One squeeze.

“Is the pain up here?” A hand was placed on Harry’s upper chest.

One squeeze.

“Any nausea?”

Two squeezes.

“Dizzy?”

One squeeze.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.  
“I’m pretty sure it’s a panic attack.”  
“What do we do…?”  
“Louis.” His voice was so small and wheezy.    
“Yes, I’m here.”   
“Ask him what he needs.” Niall said.

“What do you need, Harry?”   
“You.”  
“I’m here.” I said and lifted him into my lap, putting my arms around him, keeping him close.

“He needs to calm down his breathing, Louis.”

I nodded, waiting for more help.

“Make him breathe with you. Instruct him. Breathe in on one, hold the air in on two and breathe out of three. You count. Put his hand on your chest so he can feel you breathe.”

I did as Niall said and put his hand on my chest, having to hold it there.

“Harry, breathe with me, okay. Breathe in, one. Hold the air in, two. Breathe out, three.”

He took a shaky breath, did his best to hold his breath and then realized the air in a quick exhale.

“Breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out. Breathe in. hold it. Breathe out.”

I repeated the words over and over again for what felt like an eternity before his breathing was finally back to normal. I put my hand on his chest and felt it move in and out in a steady, normal pace.

I had been so focused on getting Harry to calm down that I hadn’t noticed that the car had come to a stop, so I was confused at first when Heather, the hired nurse, asked me if Harry was okay, if he needed to go to the hospital. At the mention of hospital Harry went rigid in my arms, but he calmed down when I softly caressed his face and placed a kiss on his forehead. Harry yawned and snuggled up against my chest and within minutes he was asleep.

“He’s okay. His feeding tube got pulled out though.””  
“I wish we didn’t have to go to the hospital to put one in, but considering how he reacted the last time and that he ended up having to be sedated we have to go to the hospital.”

I simply nodded, tightening my hold on Harry.

**

Harry freaked out when they tried to tube him at the hospital, just like last time and he ended up getting sedated again. After they took his vitals they came to the conclusion that he was too weak to be walking and that’s why he was now in a wheelchair. He had pulled the hood up, covering his face, curling in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. I just wanted to take him in my arms and hide him from everything, kiss away this disease, love him, make him feel loved.

I just wanted him to be okay, to be my Harry again.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no seen. I apologize. I've had the worst writers block ever :(
> 
> Warning: Can be triggering.
> 
> Also, a little POV - surprise :)

**Harry POV**

I was looking at myself in the mirror, using skin-colored tape to cover up the feeding-tube as much as I could. I really wanted to pull it out, but I knew that they would only cart me away to the nearest hospital and have them put in a new one. And I did not want to go through that ever again. That’s when I heard ten words that made me forget how to breathe.

“Harry, are you okay? There is blood on the sheets.”  
“I’m fine, bug bite that itched; the scab must have come off when I scratched it.” I said and looked down at my arm.

He believed me. The scab had come off but it was a cut not a bug bite. A part of me hated how easy I told a lie and how easy he believed me. But for the most part I was happy for it, because it meant I was off the hook.

**

It was almost time to go to the studio when he found me in the bathroom cleaning off the cut that had lost its scab. I was hundred percent sure that I had locked the door. I had locked the door, the lock must have been broken or something. I could feel him staring at my arm, his gaze burning and I pulled down my sleeve, as if that would make the cuts unseen. I couldn’t really get my head around the fact that he knew. Louis knew.

“Harry…” He started saying and it made me snap out of my trance-like state. I didn’t know what to do or what to say, so I ran. Out of the bathroom, out of our hotel room, down the stairs, down to the garage, where I sank down on the concrete floor. I could feel tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, my arms itching as if millions of bugs crawled on them. I pulled my sleeves up, dug my nails into the skin and scratched up and down on my arms, struggling to breathe.

_No. No. No. No. No. Why? Why? Why? No. No. Why? He can’t know. He wasn’t supposed to know._

The thoughts made me dizzy, my heart beating out of my chest, tears burning as they made their way down my face.

**Zayn POV**

I was going for a smoke when I heard it. Loud, hacking sobs.

“Someone there?”

And then I heard a voice. A familiar voice. Harry’s voice. I followed the sound of his voice and found him pretty soon, the garage wasn’t that big.

“You alright?” I asked, even if it was obvious he wasn’t, as I looked him over.

He was curled up against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible, fingernails digging into his arms, leaving red, angry tracks in their way. Thin scars; both old and almost faded and new, still red ones. He had torn of the scabs of some of the cuts while scratching in desperation, blood trickling down his arms, making them a bloody mess.  
  
“He knows…” He sobbed.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he meant. Louis knew about him cutting, and given the state Harry was in Louis had found out just before he came down here.

“Harry, you need to breathe.” I said as I tried to remember how Niall had gotten him to calm down the last time this had happened. Asking what he needed, breathing with him, talking in calm and soothing voice, and last time Louis’ presence helped him a lot, but I doubted that it would be the best solution right now since Louis was part of the reason Harry was having a panic attack. But maybe he wanted Louis anyway, so I asked.

“Harry, do you want me to get Louis?”

He shook his head, continuing to gasp for air as he sobbed. I nodded and then gently pried his hands away from his arms, holding them in my own hands.

“I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me?”

When I didn’t get a response I put one of his hands on my chest, holding it there and softly began to instruct him. Breathe in, one. Hold your breath, two. Breathe out, three. Only a few minutes later his breathing had returned to somewhat normal.

Maybe it was the stupidest question to ask, but it was kind of inevitable.

“What happened?”  
“He knows.” He said and his voice broke and I could tell he was about to start hyperventilating again.   
“No, breathe, it’s okay.”  
“No, it’s not. He knows. He can’t know. He wasn’t supposed to know.”  
“You know he won’t judge you…”  
“He will stop me, and I need it.”  
“He will stop you because he loves you because he thinks that’s what’s best for you.”  
“But it’s not. I need it.”  
“I know. I understand. And don’t say that I don’t, because… I’ve been there.”  
“Who?”  
“Me. I used to cut.”  
“Why?”  
“Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll tell you.”

He nodded and released his grip on me and I went to retrieve a first-aid kit.

“I’ll be right back, stay were you are.”

**

When he was all cleaned and bandaged up he cuddled into me, putting his head on my shoulder. I lit a cigarette, offering him one which he accepted, smoking being known for calming you down  after all, as I began telling the story.

“I wasn’t like the other kids and I didn’t have any friends. In the beginning it didn’t bother me too much, but as time went by and I was still alone it started affecting me and I was sad a lot. So I decided to hard to get friends, but no one wanted to be my friend and that hurt. The hurt from rejection and everyone at school acting like I was invisible led me into the claws of self-harm. I saw it as a release. I saw it as a kind of art. To me it was like I was painting with my pain and blood, making art on my skin. I also wanted to make my pain visible, so that people would see that I was hurting. No one took me seriously when I told them that I was sad and hurting. But they didn’t catch on, the just called me an attention seeker. Sure I wanted their attention, after years of being ignored, but that wasn’t the reason for my cutting. One night I went too deep, it wouldn’t stop bleeding and I freaked, thought I was going to die. I ran to my parents’ bedroom to wake my mum up and told her everything. It was hard, but I did stop and today I’m glad I did. I guess the reason behind the cutting is the same as why I get tattoos. To show people how I feel and what I think, it’s sort of a release as well I guess. The tattoos are also a way to show that I overcame the self-harm. That’s why the tattoos never cover a scar, it makes art of it. My mum says that by not covering them up I’m showing strength. I’m not proud of it, but I’m not ashamed for it. I know it’s hard, but you’re going to have to stop. It’s not sustainable way of living and I think you know that, deep down.”

He simply nodded, burying his face father into my sweater. I stroked over his back, feeling his protruding ribs and spine, as he slowly finally became fully relaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not proof-read, and may contain mistakes, and those are all mine, sorry for them. 
> 
> And you do know by now that I do love your comments :)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly I am deeply sorry for taking so long to update.   
> Part of the reason is that this chapter was kind of hard to write, because parts of this chapter is self-experienced and writing about it brought back a lot of memories, so yeah. 
> 
> On a more positive note, I have already started writing the next chapter, yay me! 
> 
> As usual, I love comments and kudos! Enjoy! x

**Louis POV**

I could see Paul’s mouth moving but I couldn’t hear what he said, my ears refusing to take in any noise. It was as if I was inside a bubble and all that existed in the bubble was Harry, Harry, Harry and Harry. I had come down to the garage just as Zayn was helping Harry into one of the cars. I had rushed over to them, wanting and needing to know that Harry was alright, but Zayn had stopped me and closed the door behind Harry. Zayn had insisted that Harry was okay. I didn’t believe him in the slightest, even though I knew Zayn would never lie. But the blood on his clothes did not support the statement that Harry was okay.

It took Niall whacking me over the head to make me come back out of the bubble, back to reality. But it didn’t take very long before I could feel myself drifting back into the bubble, their voices becoming more faded and distant by the second. It was going to be a long day.

**Zayn POV**

I noticed that people were giving me weird looks as we walked into the studio but I didn’t give it another thought, my mind elsewhere. I didn’t think about it, and ignored the looks, until Caroline shoved a t-shirt into my arms. That’s when I looked down and saw that my shirt was stained with blood. Blood, Harry’s blood. Harry’s. Blood. Harry. I looked around and found his skinny frame within seconds. I gesticulated for him to follow me. I could see that he was hesitant, but did as I asked.

“Have they... stopped bleeding?” I said as soon as we were out of earshot, gesturing towards his arms.  
“I don’t know.” The tone of his voice made it sound like he was saying: _“I don’t care.”_  
“Come on, let’s go check.”

Luckily he didn’t protest. As soon as we were inside the bathroom and he had made sure that the door was properly locked he pulled his sleeves up, holding them out in front of me. I washed my hands before carefully unwrapping the bandages. The scratches and re-opened cuts had stopped bleeding, but I didn’t want them to get infected so I threw the old bandages in the bin before wrapping a few layers of gauze around his arms.

“All done.” I said and he quickly pulled his sleeves back down, unlocked and opened the door, without uttering a single word and then he was out of sight.

**Liam POV**

“Sometimes it feels easier if you talk about what’s bothering you…”  
“Nothing’s bothering me.”  
“We both now that’s a lie, Harry.”  
“It’s not a lie, Liam.”  
“Just talk to me.”  
“There is nothing to talk about.”  
“There is loads to talk about.”  
“Fine, maybe there is, but I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”  
“Harry, come on, talk to me, please.”

Both of us feel silent, the only sound in the room was the whirring noise from the tube feeding machine.

“Harry, please talk to me. I know you want to. You know you want to.”  
“Every time I swallow I feel the damn plastic tube! I hate this! And I don’t understand how many times I have to tell you that there is nothing wrong with me. I’m fine!”

It was obvious that he wasn’t going to say anything more about it, so I changed the subject.

“Written any songs or lyrics lately?”

He turned away from me and ignored me.

**

“It’s too much. Make it stop, Liam. Please make it stop.”  
“It’s okay, Harry. Your stomach needs to get used to getting food again. It’s not too much left, you can do it. I know you can.”  
“I can’t. It’s too much, please stop it.”  
“We shouldn’t be cutting your feedings in half, Harry. You need the nutrition…”  
“It hurts so… so bad. I feel… so sick. I feel like… like I’m going to… going to explode. Plea…ase Liam. Please, it hurts so bad.”  
“Harry…”  
“I will rip the fucking tube out if you don’t stop it NOW! I swear I will.”

He had barely finished talking when I was walking over towards the machine and turned it off. I filled a small plastic syringe with some lukewarm water before I disconnected the machine from Harry’s tube and put the syringe in the tube and pressed the water in. I could see him flinch when the water went in and I wanted to stop, but the tube needed to be flushed so it didn’t get blocked. When I was done and had closed the tube I sat down beside him on the sofa.

“Is there any way I can help you feel better? Hold you? Rub your stomach? Anything?”

He shook his head, curled up to a ball and turned away from me.

“Just tell me if there is anything I can do, okay?”

**

**Louis POV**

“You let him cut the feeding in half?!”  
“I had to. I tried to make him finish it, but he told me he would rip the tube out, I had to stop it. I had no choice, Louis.”  
“Well you won’t be trusted to be with him during future feeding, just so you know.”  
“Louis…” Liam started to say but Harry interrupted him.   
“Don’t blame him. I begged him to stop the feeding. He wanted me to finish, but I kept begging. It was hurting so bad, Louis. It was too much.”

I don’t know what it was, but I calmed down a little and turned to Liam and apologized for yelling at him, before him and Zayn got ready to do their hour.

**

“You need to finish the feeding, and to not get to close to the next one I suggest we finish it now.”  
“I don’t want it.”  
“I know. But you need it.”  
“No, I don’t.”  
“Please don’t argue. Just don’t.”

He turned away from, curling up in the corner of the sofa.

**

“It’s too much, Louis.”

_He is just saying that so that he doesn’t have to finish the feeding._

“Louis, please. I feel so sick.”

_He’s just lying, he is fine. He can handle it._

“It hurts so bad. Louis, please.”

I looked up at him and saw that he had tears in his eyes. He did look like he was in pain, but I was still convinced he could handle finishing the feeding.

“How can I help?” I asked, already knowing the answer.   
“Turn the machine off. Please.”  
“Harry, I know it hurts, it’s because your stomach isn’t used to getting food, and it needs to get used to it again. I’m not really doing you a favor if I turn the machine off, Harry. You and I both know that.”

He became quiet after that, aside from an occasional whimper and I went back to my phone, reading everything I could find about eating disorders and self-harm. I needed to know how to help him.

**

“Oh my god!”

My head snapped up at Niall’s voice only to be met by Harry leaning forward between his spread legs, vomiting onto the floor. I sprang into action and ran over to shut the feeding-machine off.

“Are you alright?” Niall asked rubbing over Harry’s back as he heaved again.   
“I am now.” Harry croaked when he could breathe again.

I sat down on Harry’s other side, pulling his hair back from his face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I really did think you could handle it. I’m so sorry.”

He looked up at me, with teary eyes, giving me a short nod, as to show me he accepted my apology. The feeding-tube had slipped out a bit and he was about to pull on it but I stopped him. I could feel how he flinched away from me, as if I was going to hurt him.

“Niall could you please go get Heather. I think we need to either pull the tube out or at least adjust it, and she should do that.”

Niall stood up and went to get Heather, and then I was alone with Harry. Only a few minutes later Niall comes back with Heather, and after taking one look at the state Harry is in and the way the tube sticks out, she decides that they should pull the feeding-tube out and give Harry a breather.

After the tube is out, the floor and Harry was cleaned up I sat down beside Harry on the sofa, making an attempt to comfort him, but he curls away from me and moves closer to Niall. Niall open his arms for Harry to cuddle up against him, giving me an apologetic look.

Why couldn’t he cuddle up against me? Why was he avoiding me? Why? Why?

I rose quickly from the sofa, tears burning behind my eyelids. As soon as I was outside I screamed. I screamed out frustration. I screamed out anger. I screamed out fear. I screamed out sadness. I screamed until my throat hurt. I screamed until I couldn’t anymore. And then I cried, letting out load, big, ugly sobs.

**

**Harry POV**

_He’s gonna make you stop. He wasn’t supposed to know. He won’t love you anymore. He will hate you. He will leave you. He never loved you. He just stayed with you out of pity. You don’t deserve him. He is too good for you. You’re fat, ugly and disgusting. How can you even for a moment think that he ever loved you?_

The time was running out and soon I wouldn’t have an excuse to avoid Louis anymore. Just the thought of that he knew and what he would say about it made it more difficult to breathe. And before I knew it I had worked myself into full-blown panic mode.

**Niall POV**

“I told you I would beat you!”

Liam sighed in defeat before saying:   
“What about you H, you think you could beat Mr. Horan?”

We both turned to face Harry when he didn’t answer. He was clawing at his chest, gasping for air, eyes wild. It freaked me out and at first I didn’t know what to do. But it didn’t take many seconds for me to understand that he was having panic attack.

“Harry, I need you to tell me what you need?”   
“I don’t know.” He gasped.   
“Do you want me to hold you? Should we go outside and get some fresh air? Should we play some Fifa? Write a song? I bet it’s full of outstanding lyrics beneath all those curls of yours.”   
“It doesn’t… matter anymore… Nothing… matters…”  
“New lyrics?”  
“No…” He croaked before starting to hyperventilate.  
“Harry listen to me, you need to calm down. You need to breathe.”

I scooted closer to him, cautiously putting my hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t flinch I moved to take his hand before putting it on my chest, holding it there. Then I put my other hand on his chest.

“Breathe with me, okay?”

It seemed to take forever for him to come back to breathing normal again and when he did he was exhausted. His head resting on my shoulder, eyelids fluttering, breathing still hitching once in a while.

“Why me?” He said so quietly I almost didn’t catch it. It made my heart ache and I just wanted to make him all better, right now.

**  
 **Zayn POV**

When me and Louis came backstage and saw Harry leaning on Niall’s shoulder, half asleep it didn’t take more than seconds before Louis started firing questions at Niall. Especially one: ‘Is he okay?’ Harry got up faster than I thought was possible and marched away. I heard Niall telling Louis that Harry had had a panic attack before I followed Harry.

“Harry, stop!”

To my surprise he did stop.

“It will be okay. He only wants to help you.”  
“Mhm.”   
“And if you ever want to talk I’m here, okay?”

He nodded slowly and when I opened my arms to offer him a hug he accepted it, burying his face in my neck, mumbling a ‘thank you’.

**

**Harry POV**

I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to make a dolphin-leap onto Paul’s shoulder, but as soon as my body made contact with his and a crippling pain radiated from my ribs out through my whole body I knew it had been a terrible idea. 

**

Somehow I made it through the rest of the live stream, but we had barely made it backstage when my body simply couldn’t take the pain anymore and everything went black.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy!   
> if you want to talk my twitter is: @littlemagiclou (changed my username :) )  
> I love the comments *hint hint* :)

**Louis POV**

It was all a blur. I couldn’t focus.

“…someone call an ambulance…”  
“…my chest hurts…”  
“…x-ray…”  
“…bruised ribs…”  
“…painkillers no more frequently than…”  
“…new feeding-tube…”

It was late when we finally came back to our hotel room. Harry was leaning on me, letting me support his whole bodyweight, he wasn’t heavy so it hadn’t been a problem if I wasn’t so exhausted. I helped him lay down on the bed. He flinched at every move and I suspected that the painkillers he had gotten at the hospital were wearing off.

“How’s your ribs?”  
“They’re fine.”  
“Don’t give me bullshit. I can see you flinching each time you take a breath. They’re not fine.”   
“Okay, fine, they hurt.  You happy?”  
“No, I’m not happy? Why would it make me happy if you’re hurting?”

He shrugged and then winced, biting his lip as if to stop from any pained sounds coming out. I went to retrieve the painkillers.

“Here, take these. They will help with the pain.”

He took the pills and it didn’t take more than ten minutes before he was fast asleep.

**

It was closer to morning than evening when I stumbled into the flat. I was slightly tipsy off vodka and beer and before the small part of me still thinking rationally could stop me I called out for Harry. Loud and slightly slurred his name bounced against the walls of the flat. When I didn’t get an answer I called out again, louder this time, starting to make my way through the flat. For each time I didn’t get an answer my voice grew louder, a feeling that something was wrong starting to creep up my spine. I kept calling for him as I moved through the flat. Anxiety growing stronger for each room I passed and found empty. Soon there was only the bathroom left. Anxiety so strong my hands were shaking, and I was struggling to grasp the door handle.

It was locked and panic exploded in my chest. Without a second thought I stepped back, aiming a kick at the door. Kick after kick, again and again my foot collided with the wooden door, aiming close to the door handle until it finally swung open revealing my biggest nightmare.

Harry was on the floor, slumped in an unnatural position, seemingly life-less. And blood, there was blood everywhere. Breaking out of the initial chock I walked over to him, seeing deep cuts scattered all over his arms. I fall to my knees beside him, feeling blood soaking into the fabric of my pants. Desperately trying to find some signs of life, but there is no pulse, no breathing, nothing. Nothing, nothing, Harry is gone. My Harry is gone. I can feel my heart breaking, chest constricting in loud, hacking sobs as I bury myself in his chest, his unmoving chest. He is gone. I had lost my Harry.

**

I awoke with a start, quickly sitting up, gasping for air. Panic still lingering in my veins, images of Harry’s life less form on the bathroom floor flashing before my eyes. I needed to see Harry, to see that he was alive, that it had been a nightmare and that it wasn’t real. I looked to my right and saw him lying there. Chest moving up and down in time with his breathing and there was no blood in sight.

“Thank god it was just a nightmare.”  
“Lou…” He croaked out and then winced in pain.  
“What’s wrong, baby?”  
“It… hurts…” He said, breathing sounding strained, like it hurt to breath.   
“Hold on, I’ll get your painkillers. Just keep breathing, even if it hurts. I’ll be right back.”

I placed the pills and the glass of water on the bedside table, helped him sit up before sliding in behind him. As I made him lean against me I felt how rigid he was and that he was barely breathing, just tiny gasps.

“Harry, breathe.”

I held the pills against his lips.

“Put these in your mouth and I’ll grab the glass of water so you can swallow them, okay? They will help with the pain.”

**

Ten minutes later I could tell the pills were taking effect. He relaxed against me, his body almost going completely lax in my arms. I knew it wasn’t going to come a better opportunity to have this conversation so I just went for it.

“Harry, we need to talk.”  
“I don’t want to.”  
“That may be the case, but we’re going to talk, whether you like it or not. It’s not something I’m going to ignore.”

He stood up from the bed, to get away from me. Too fast and he stumbled and I grabbed him, guided him back onto the bed. He sat down, refusing to look at me.

“I guess you wonder why.”   
“Yeah, I do.”  
“Well, there is things I can’t…” He said, looking up and right into my eyes.   
“And there is things I can.” He looked down at his arm.

It was first now that it hit me. All his cuts and scars where on his “Things I can”-arm.

“But why… why cutting yourself?”  
“Why do you breathe?”  
“Cause I wouldn’t survive if I… Oh. Harry.”  
“Yeah, and before you tell me I have stop, I won’t. I can’t. I need it.”

I wanted to ask more. Ask how long. Ask how. Ask when. I wanted to know everything. But I couldn’t find the words to ask, so instead I croaked out:

“Can I hold you? Please.”

I could see how hesitant he was and I was about to say more when he gave a slight nod.

I held him close, placing small, soft kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, telling him how beautiful he is, inside and out. I could see a tear trickle down his cheek before he said:

“I can’t stop. I don’t cut because I want to. I cut because I need to.”

I knew he was expecting me to tell him he had to stop. I knew he was expecting me to take all his razors or knifes or scissors or whatever he used to cut.

“I’m not going to say that you have to stop. I’m going to help you stop.”  
“Lou.”  
“I apologize in advance for this question, but doesn’t it hurt?”  
“Kind of, I guess. But it also takes the pain away, make it tolerable.”

We laid in silence for a few minutes before he broke the silence.  
  
“I don’t know if I’m ready, Lou.”  
“It will be okay. I promise you, Haz, it will be okay.”

More tears trickled down his cheeks and he buried his face in my chest, his body shaking with sobs. I stroked up and down over his back, trying to soothe him, to comfort him.

“It’s okay, baby. It will be okay. I’m here. I’m not leaving you. I’ll help you. It’s okay, I promise it will be okay.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I write this every time I update, but yeah.  
> I'm sorry for taking so long to update.

**Louis POV**

Today was not a good day. It had started with an argument over the breakfast feeding and the argument had led to him ripping his feeding tube out. He then had stomped out of the living room and I could hear him shut and lock the door and I just knew he had went to the bathroom. I didn’t think twice before I followed him.

When I came to the door I could hear him gagging. I didn’t waste any time before starting to bang on the door, begging him to stop, begging him to open the door. I begged and begged and he kept ignoring me, kept purging. After listening to him purging and then dry heaving for what felt like forever I snapped, got up of the floor and walked away and left the flat.

Fifteen minutes later I stood on Zayn’s doorstep, choking back sobs. When he opened the door I almost fell into his arms.

“Lou, you okay? What happened? Is Harry okay?”

I couldn’t answer, crying too hard. He pulled me inside and closed the door behind us before enveloped me in his arms. When I had cried myself dry he led me over to the sofa, making me sit down before he disappeared into the kitchen. When he came back he pressed a steaming cup into my hands, placed a blanket around my shoulders and sat down beside me.

“Drink and talk. Tell me what happened?”

I was unsure of what to say at first but when once I started I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of me. I told him about the breakfast feeding. I told him about the fight. I told him about Harry ripping the feeding tube out. When I told him about Harry locking himself in the bathroom, purging my voice got all choked up. Zayn put his arms around me and murmured: “It will be okay, Lou.”

**

**Liam POV**

“I called Niall, but he was about to board a plane back to the UK and I can’t be alone. Are you busy?”

I could hear the panic in his voice.  
  
“I’m coming over, Harry. Just calm down, okay? It’s okay. I’m getting dressed right now, I will be with you before you know it.”  
“Liam…”  
“Yeah Harry?”  
“I feel all fuzzy and light-headed. I feel like I might pass out and I’m scared.”  
“Should I call an ambulance?”  
“No, I just… maybe… I think… maybe I need to eat something. And then I will feel better.”  
“Anything in particular you want?” I tried my best to not sound shocked.    
“A banana smoothie, just low-fat, non-sugar yogurt and a banana. But we don’t have much food at home. I don’t want to be a bother and ask you to go shopping.”   
“Harry, you’re not a bother. I will go to the store on my way over to you, it’s fine. Is there anything else you want or need?”   
“No, or we’re out of green tea, lemons and celery.”   
“Harry, I want to stay on the phone ‘til I get to you, okay? So I know if you pass out or if anything happens.”

I made him talk about everything and nothing, while I went to the store to pick up everything I needed, while trying to not be recognized.

**

**Harry POV**

 I could hear Liam messing about in the kitchen and I could smell bananas and not soon after he came into the living room with a tray that he placed on the coffee table.

“I made one for myself as well. I also bought a sandwich, for me. I thought that maybe you’d feel more comfortable eating if I was eating too. Here.”

I took the glass without a word. My head was screaming at me to put the glass down and not drink it. My body screaming at me to drink the smoothie. I needed this. I was going to pass out if I didn’t drink it and if I passed out I would without doubt end up in the hospital and there they would feed me through a tube and I wouldn’t have any control over what went into my body.

Liam must have sensed my inner turmoil because he put his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay, Harry. The only thing that will happen if you drink the smoothie is that you will feel better. You won’t feel all fuzzy and light headed anymore. You feel that way…”  
“I know. It’s hard.”  
“I know you can do it.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's short but it's an update. xx

**Louis POV**

Niall had convinced me to come to the Class of 92 premiere, and with Beckham being there it wasn’t really that hard, to be honest. And it had been nice to finally meet him. It had been good to get out and do something, think about something else.

Liam had found me when I was talking to Beckham. After we had spent over 10 minutes talking and laughing about how alike Liam and Beckham looked, as well as taking a picture, Liam said he needed to talk to me. I was about to point out that’s what he had been doing for the past 10 minutes when Liam continued with: “…about Harry.” And I swallowed my words and nodded before pulling him away from all the people.

“Harry called me, sounding really upset. Do you know what had happened?”  
“We kind of had a fight. Is he okay?”  
“Yeah, well he was really upset when I got there, but other than that he was… okay, yeah.”

It felt like he was withholding something from me and I just had to know.

“There is something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

He squirmed and I fastened my eyes on him. And it made him spill.

”When he called he said he felt fuzzy and kind of light-headed ,like he was about to pass out. I asked if I should call an ambulance, but he said he would feel better as soon as he ate something, and I asked him what he wanted and he said he wanted a banana smoothie.”  
“Did he drink it?”  
“I could see that it was hard for him, but yes he did, the entire glass.”

I could feel tears of pride brim in my eyes.

“Thank you for being there for him. I should have called or som…”  
“Shhh…” He hushed me and then enveloped me in a warm, comforting hug.

 **

After asking Liam time and time again if Harry had been okay, as okay as he could be, after he had drunk the smoothie, and Liam answering that Harry was okay. Before I left I made Liam promise to make sure that Harry makes it home safe, preferably follow him home.

When I got home I immediately went to bed and I was asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

**

I woke up with a start at the sound of voices. At first I thought there were robbers until I recognized the voices to be Harry and Liam. I heard them say good bye and then a door closing and then Harry’s foot steps towards the bedroom. I pretended I was asleep because I was not ready to talk to him yet. I peered through half closed eyes and saw him undressed until he was only wearing his boxers. _He was so skinny. So frail._

He was standing in front of the full-length mirror.

“You’re so disgusting.  
Yeah, I know.  
And David Beckham are blind, because you are nowhere near emaciated.  
I know, I’m sorry I am disappointing you, I’m so sorry.  
You’re not as emaciated as Victoria, don’t believe what he said, I am the only one who knows the truth and you should listen to me.  
I am listening to you, I don’t know what more you want me to do, I’m doing exactly like you say.  
No you’re not! If you were you wouldn’t still be this goddamn fat!   
I’ll be better, I promise. Don’t leave me, I can’t do this without you. Please don’t leave me. I’ll be better I promise!!”

I couldn’t listen to this anymore. I couldn’t stand listening to him talking so low about himself. It was heart wrenching to hear.

“I’m not emaciated. I’m fat. Fat and disgusting. Repulsive and ugly and just fat. Fat! Fat! Fat!”

I quietly got out of bed and as I got closer to him I could see that he was pinching and scratching the skin on his stomach.

“Please come off. I promise no more food. I have to get rid of all this fat. I wish I could just cut it off, tear it away from my body so I can be perfect.”

I carefully placed my arms around his waist. He flinched away from me as if I had given him an electric shock.

“Let me go! Don’t touch me!”   
“No.” I said and tightened my hold on him so that he couldn’t get away.

I lifted him up and carried him to the bed. He struggled against me, trying to get free.

“Please don’t say that about yourself. Please.”  
“Let me go! Stop talking! Just let me go!”  
“I won’t say anything more, I just want to hold you.”

As I held him close to me I could feel him struggling, trying to get free.

*

It felt like forever until he started to relax against me, but eventually he did. He leant back against my chest and mumbled “Thank you.” and it felt like my heart was breaking.

I didn’t say anything, just hugged him tight before laying us both down, pulling the covers over us both.

*

I have never felt more helpless. He cried himself to sleep, face pressed into my shirt and I couldn’t do anything. Nothing I could say or do would make a difference. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear things apart. I wanted to break something. But I didn’t dare leave him. I didn’t dare letting him go. My arms were going numb, but I didn’t let go. What if I did let go and he disappeared? What if I was the only thing keeping him together?


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, finally. Finally an update! I won't make any promises, but I really hope that I will be able to update really soon again. I know what I'm going to write, I just have to find the right words. Wish me luck! :)

**Harry POV**

When I woke up I was enveloped in Louis’ arms. He was warm and reassuring but I felt like I was suffocating. I pried his arms off me and got out of bed. There wasn’t enough room, not enough air. I needed to get out, be alone. _The roof._ The roof was perfect. I needed to get away. I needed to think.

I got dressed, put on a sweater, a beanie, shoes and a coat before heading for the roof.

I had only opened the door leading to the roof when the voice started.   
  
'You should just end it. Kill yourself. No one is going to miss you, they will be glad to finally be rid of such a liability. A fat, worthless, disgusting liability.'

Maybe I should just end it, step over the edge of the roof, slice my wrists. My arms were itching, my whole body was burning with the need to bleed. The razor blade was a reassuring weight in my coat pocket. It was there if I needed it. And that felt safe. At the same time I wanted to, I didn't want to give into the voice.   
  
Without being fully aware of it I walked over to the edge of the roof.   
'Jump! Jump! Jump!'   
No, I don’t want to die, I want to live, I want and need control, but I want to live.   
The voice continued to taunt me, screaming at me to just jump. That it would be good, good for everyone. That no one would miss me, or care that I was gone. 

**

The sun reflected in the razor blade and sent small reflections of the sun dancing over the skin on my arm. The reflections almost looked like small rainbows. I hated that, how could be rainbows be shone onto skin as horrible as mine? It made the urge stronger to slice my skin open. The blade was sharp, it was brand new and it made me almost excited. It would cut so smooth and neatly and the pain would be exquisite.

Watching red trickle down my arm, creating a pattern, it was beautiful in some macabre way and I could feel myself smile. When the blood had mostly stopped and dried, I kind of missed it so I made another cut, and another and another and another and I didn’t stop until there was seven new, quite shallow cuts decorating my arm, new blood bubbling up to the surface, and then making its way down my arm. It was beautiful, but at the same time it was a bit frightening.

**Louis POV**

Waking up in a cold bed is never pleasant and this time was no exception. Harry wasn’t in the bed and I could feel the panic starting to build inside me.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar and the logical side of me tried to alleviate the panic: ”He’s probably just having a wee.”   
The panicked side of me did not find itself calmed down: “The bed is too cold for him to just be having a wee. Either he isn’t there or he is there, but purging or cutting.”

I had to check the bathroom. What if Harry wasn’t okay? What if he was in there, hurting himself?

I flung the door to the bathroom open only to find it empty.

The logical side tried to jump in again: “He probably just woke up, went for a wee and then went to watch some TV.”  
But the panicked side countered: “But the TV isn’t on.  
“Probably has it on mute to not wake you up.”

I have to check the living room. When I’ve had looked in the living room and the kitchen, finding no signs of Harry I started freaking out and I briefly wondered if this was how Harry felt during his panic attacks. Harry was nowhere to be found in the flat and I could feel myself shaking with how worried I was. I went out in the stairwell, no Harry. I was about to start walking down the stairs when I saw that the door leading to the roof was open. In my brain only the worst possible scenario existed. Harry was on the roof to kill himself. He was gonna jump of the roof and kill himself.

Running up the stairs was a struggle because I was shaking so hard. When I finally reached the roof I saw him sitting on the edge of the roof, his back turned towards me, I didn’t know if I was relieved _he was alive_ or just more terrified _he was so close to the edge_.

How do I let him know that I’m up here without making him flinch and move so that he fell of the edge? If I walked over to him and then made my presence known I could grab him if he lost his balance. I walked over to him, trying to be as quiet as possible so that he wouldn’t notice me before I was in reaching distance. I sat down beside him and slid my hand into one of his. He flinched in surprise and looked up, before turning his gaze away again.

“What’s wrong, Harry?”   
“Nothing, I just needed to think, that’s all.”

I was about to say something when I saw them. They were so many of them but they were not bleeding anymore.

“Harry, can I hold you? Please?”

I could feel him hesitate, uncertainty radiating off him. But finally he did nod and I let go of a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I moved so I was behind him and gingerly lifted him into my arms. He weighed literally nothing. We sat like that for a while, just watching the early morning sky.

“Harry, maybe you should talk to someone? Maybe it could help? Maybe it’s time that you got some help with this.”

He was out of my arms a millisecond after the words were out of my mouth.

“Maybe you should just leave if you don’t want to be with me. Maybe you should just leave instead of sending me off to get help. THAT I DON’T NEED! THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! Or maybe you want me to leave. Fine, just say the word and I’ll leave.”   
“No, that’s not what I meant. Don’t jump! Please.”   
“I was not going to jump. But I stand by what I said. Say the word and I’ll leave.”

He turned around and marched to the door and soon he disappeared down the stairs. I was so shocked, so scared that I couldn’t move for a minute. When my muscles listened to me again I got and hurried after him.

When I get down to the flat he is standing by the kitchen counter. I walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He flinched. That’s when I saw what he was doing.

“Harry, please stop.”

He listened and let the blade fall onto the counter.

“Could I please clean your cuts?”

He didn’t respond and I took his silence as a yes and went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Then, without exchanging a single word I cleaned the cuts and wrapped his arms in bandage. When his arm was all wrapped up in thick, white gauze I took his hand and made a nod towards the bedroom. We both climbed into bed and he surprised me by cuddling up against me.

I combed through his hair, playing with the strands, softly massaging the scalp, trying to make him relax and get some sleep. When his breathe evened out I gently untangled my fingers only to find chunks of his hair still clinging to my fingers. It freaked me out to say the least. He was so ill, so malnourished that his hair fell out. He needed help and he needed it now. And if he didn’t get help I was going to lose my Harry.

His voice startled me. I had thought he was asleep.

“Louis, don’t leave me, please. Don’t leave me. Promise you’ll never leave.”  
“I promise, Haz. I’ll never leave you, never.”

Tears were burning behind my eyelids, but I refused to let them out. I had to be strong for Harry. I had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any mistake, I did not proofread, I should get better at that, but I'm impatient. 
> 
> if anything confuses you, just ask!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated. I am really, really sorry and I want to make the promise to get better at updating, but I know I won't get better at it, well you and I can always hope. Anyway, enough rambling, enjoy this new chapter.

**Louis POV**

It took another week before I brought up the subject of getting help again and why I was doing it now was mostly because I had gotten the admission letter from Meadow Treatment Center.

We were both sitting at the dining table in silence. I was focusing 100% on eating my omelet in a vain attempt to not think about what I was about to do. When there wasn’t a single ounce of omelet left on my plate I looked up. Harry was still picking his apart until all that was left was a pile of crumbs.

**

This was not an ideal time. I knew that, but I didn’t see a better one on the rising.

“Harry?”

He looked up from the pile of bread crumbs and met my gaze.

“This came in the mail yesterday.” I said and pushed the envelope/letter across the table.  
“What’s this?” He asked without making any effort to reach for the letter/envelope.  
“It’s an admission letter to an eating disorder treat…”

That’s all I had time to say before Harry violently pushed the plate of the table, making it fly through the air before it landed on the floor creating a mess of bread crumbs and broken pieces of china.

“Harry…” I started but he was already on his feet, marching towards the door.

“Don’t leave...”

And the door slammed shut.

**

**Harry POV**

I could feel my bare feet the pavement but my body couldn’t comprehend the cold. I didn’t know where I was going, I just had to get as far away as possible. I didn’t know from what I was running. Maybe it was Louis. Maybe it was treatment, getting help. Did I even want to run? Was it me that had made that decision? What if I was sick? _No, you’re not sick. They are just trying to take your control away from you. They don’t understand._

I was so wrapped up in my internal monologue that I wasn’t aware of my surroundings before I was in front of Zayn’s front door.

**Zayn POV**

I had just read the text from Louis when I heard a noise at the front door. I saved the document before I put down my laptop and slowly got up from the couch and padded towards the door. Outside was Harry. In nothing but a t-shirt and trousers. No shoes or socks or jacket. His whole body was trembling and his eyes were swollen red. If it hadn't been for the sobs it would have been hard to tell if he was crying as he was soaked, rain dripping from his hair, down onto his cheeks.   
  
"Jesus Christ Haz." I exclaimed, gently grabbing him and pulling him into the warmth of my apartment. He cuddles up close to me and I hug him, not caring if I got soaked too.

"Okay, let’s get you into some dry clothes so you can get warm again. Then you can tell me what's going on, okay?"   
He nods against my side and I give him a small smile.

"I'm sure I got some clothes that won't be ridiculously big on you." I say as I lead him down the hallway with my arm around his shoulders, rubbing up and down on his arm trying to get him a little warmer.   
  
I helped him find something to wear, picking out a pair of lined fluffy jogging bottoms, a long sleeved dark blue shirt and a massive jumper. I reluctantly leaved him to change, waiting just outside the door, in case he would need me.   
  
I leant against the door frame waiting, wondering what the hell had happened to make Harry show up in such a state. Then I remembered Louis’ worried text. I went to fetch my phone and then called him. He answered before the first tone had even ended.

“Harry is gone.”   
“Harry’s here.”  
“He’s there? At your place? Is he okay?”  
“He’s upset and a bit wet and cold, but he’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

We were both quiet for a couple of minutes before it dawned on me to ask if Louis was okay.

“Louis, are you okay?”  
“I don’t…” he started.  
“Lou?”

“Lou, what happened?”  
“Liam and Niall just came through the door. I’ll be okay, just take care of Harry. Please.”  
“I promise, Lou. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll call you back later, yeah.”  
“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Zayn.”  
  
We had just said our good byes when a loud chocked sob echoed through the apartment and I didn't hesitate before going to check on him.   
  
"Harry, are you okay?" the only answer I get is another heart wrenching sob.   
  
He's sitting on the floor on his knees. His back was arched from where he was hunched over sobbing, fingers clawing at the hardwood floor. I dropped down by his side and tried to get him to stop before he hurt himself.   
"Haz, you gotta stop that before you hurt yourself." I say, stroking over his bare back softly.  
"What's wrong?" He's crying too hard to be able to form a reply and I can feel my heart breaking for him.  
"Alright, Haz. Let’s get you dressed and then we can cuddle on the couch, okay?" I said and grabbed him under his armpits, pulling him up from the floor and sit him down on the edge of the bed.

After helping him putting on the clothes I half-carried him to the living-room. I put him down on the sofa and then dropped down next to him. He instantly curled into my side and I wrapped an arm around him, offering him what comfort I could.

“Shhhhh Haz, it’s okay.” I say over and over.

He keeps shaking his head, crying harder and trembling in my arms. I didn’t know what to do, what did Louis do to help him to calm down? Playing with his hair, combing through the curls. Singing. I started humming the song I had been writing when Harry showed up as I gently moved his head so he leant against my chest and softly began combing through his hair.  

It took about an hour for Harry to calm down and get control over his breathing. He took a few deep, steady breaths, trying to stop himself from hiccupping and crying.

“You alright?” I ask, letting go of him to be able to look at him better.  
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse and was obvious from the way he winced that it hurt him to talk.  
“What have happened, Haz?” The worriedness mixed with a hint of anger in my voice made me sound a bit choked up. I couldn’t stop the anger. I was not angry at Harry, I was angry at the reason that put him in such a state.

“Louis hates me.” He chokes it out in one big breath and his jaw trembles.

He holds in the tears and wipes furiously at his tear-filled eyes with the back of his hand.

“You know he doesn’t, Harry.” I say looking at him.  
“Yes he does!” Harry raises his voice slightly.  
“Why would you think he hates you?”  
“Because he thinks I’m not good enough.” His voice sounds so pained when he talks that it breaks my heart.   
“Harry, you know Louis thinks the world of you. You’re the most important thing in the world to him. He loves you so much. Can’t you see that?”

It astonishes me that he doesn’t see it.

“He’s sending me away, Zayn.” Harry chokes out.

His hands has begun to shakes again and he shifts around on the sofa so that he’s on his knees, looking at me with tears running down his cheeks and his eyes rimmed with red.

“What do you mean ‘he’s sending you away’?” I ask skeptically, a bit weary of what’s coming next.  
“He’s sending me to some crazy person facility!” He exclaims, throwing his hands up.   
“He thinks I’m crazy. That I need some kind of help. I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine!” The last bit was almost a shout and I jump at the suddenness of it.  
“Harry, calm down.” I tell him and he brings his arms up around himself. Holding himself together.  
“You’re going to get yourself worked up again, it’s okay.” I shuffle over and pull him back into my arms.  
“He’s just trying to help you, Hazza, you know that.” I tell him as he trembles in my arms yet again.  
“You know he only wants you to be okay. He would never do anything that he thought could harm you, Harry. This is Louis we’re talking about, he loves you more than I’ve ever seen anyone love someone.” I reassure him and he nods his head.  
“I love him too.” He sobs gently and I nod.  
“I know you do, Harry. And Louis knows that too.” I say, stroking him over the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm sorry for yet again not proof-reading.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter!  
> Vomiting and medical inaccuracies.

**Louis POV**

After Harry had left I was frozen to the spot. I knew he wouldn’t like the idea, but I hadn’t pictured it like this. And he had left without shoes and coat and it was winter and freezing outside. What if he froze to death?

I should have followed him. What if he died? What if he killed himself? What if this was the last time I saw him alive?

I grabbed my phone and called him, only to hear his phone vibrate on the kitchen counter. I immediately sent texts to Niall, Liam and Zayn before starting to pace around the flat.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when my phone vibrated in my hand. My first thought was that it was Harry calling me back before I remembered that he left his phone at home. It was Zayn.

“Harry is gone.” Became my opening line.  
“Harry’s here.” Zayn said.  
“He’s there? At your place? Is he okay?”

My heart was about to beat out of my chest.  
  
“He’s upset and a bit wet and cold, but he’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Harry was upset. He was upset because of me and I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. But he was with Zayn. Zayn would make sure he was okay.

“Louis, are you okay?” Zayn asked after a few moments of silence.

Was I? I didn’t know.   
  
“I don’t…” I started saying, but was interrupted by the door being swung open and Niall and Liam barging in.  
“Lou?”

“Lou, what happened?” Zayn asked, worry evident in his voice.  
“Liam and Niall just came through the door. I’ll be okay, just take care of Harry. Please.”  
“I promise, Lou. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll call you back later, yeah.”  
“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Zayn.”

When I had hung up Liam enveloped me in a big hug.

“Have you found him?” He asked, rubbing my back.  
“He’s at Zayn’s.” I breathed and burrowed my face in his neck.

**

Hours passed and Zayn still hadn’t called back and I was starting to worry. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. My entire being consumed with thoughts of Harry, wondering if he was okay or not.

Niall and Liam had ordered take out and was in the middle of stuffing their faces with Indian food, washing it down with beers. The food smelled good, but I had absolutely no appetite. I was too worried about Harry to even think about eating.

**

I look up from my lap when I hear a loud thud. Liam and Niall are both in a pile on the floor, laughing.

“Yo…re so shhiii…t atttt… Iriiissshh dancinggg… maaaa…nn…” Niall laughed, voice slurred, jokingly hitting Liam in the chest.

So that’s what they had been doing. A drunk Niall had tried teaching a drunk Liam how to Irish dance, something that I would normally laugh at, join Niall in his mocking of Liam lack of skill in Irish dancing.

Just as I’m about to disappear back into my thoughts they both flopped down on either side of me.

“Leeett’sch drraww di…icks… oonnn ea…chhh othhee…er…” Liam slurred, waving a sharpie in my face. Where he got the sharpie from was a mystery.

They made it a competition. Who could fit most dicks on the others face. When Liam had four lopsided dicks on his face and Niall had five my phone vibrated in my pocket and I quickly fished it up and answered.

“Louis, I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

It was Zayn. The words I wanted to say got stuck in my throat.

“Louis?” He asked.  
“Yeah…” I croaked out.  
“You okay?”  
“Is Harry okay? Can I speak to him?”  
“He’s… he’s okay. He just feel asleep and I…”  
“Then let him sleep. He needs to sleep. God knows he hasn’t slept properly in I don’t know how long.”  
“I’m going to drive him home when he wakes up, okay?”  
“Okay, yeah…”  
“What’s wrong, Louis?”  
“He hates me.”  
“No, he doesn’t. He loves you and deep down he knows you do this because you love him and wants him to get better.”

We’re both silent for a moment before Zayn speaks again.

“Take care of yourself, Louis, okay? Try not to worry too much. He’s safe here, not out in the cold and I won’t let him do anything. Relax Louis, okay?”  
“I don’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”

**  
**Zayn POV**

He was shaking. His whole body trembling.

“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn up the heat?”

He shook his head.

“Are you feeling okay?”  
“I’m… sc..are.dd…” He stuttered.

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“What if he hates me?”  
“He loves you. I don’t think it’s possible for Louis to hate you.”

He simply nodded and leant back against the seat.

“Harry, he loves you and he only wants what’s best for you. It’s okay to be scared, just try to relax, okay?”

**

As soon as we arrived at the flat Harry disappears into their bedroom before anyone of us can stop him. Louis looked like someone had ripped his heart out and stomped on it. I put my arms around him and held him tight. He leant his head against my shoulder, his whole body trembled as sobs started ripping through him.

“It’s okay, Lou. It’s okay. Everything will be okay. I promise.”  
“You can’t know that.”   
“I know you two are strong. And I know that we’re going to get through this. I know Harry is going to get better.”  
“You can’t know that.”  
“I know we’re not giving up until he’s better.”  
“It just hurts.” He paused to take a deep breath. “It hurts to watch him waste away.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just tightened my arms and held him even closer.

“I’m scared, Zayn.” He said after a few minutes. “What if he… what if he… what if he… dies?” He continued, voice breaking.  
“We won’t let him, okay?”

He hummed against my neck and hugged back before breaking free from my embrace.

“I’d better go talk to him.” “Maybe you could drive them…” He pointed towards the sofas where Niall and Liam were passed out. “…home.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of them, passed out on top of each other, and the dicks. For their sake I hoped they had used a water soluble marker and not a permanent one.

“I don’t want them to both be hungover and be stiff and sore from sleeping like that.”  
“Of course. Will you be okay?”  
“Yeah…”

The answer was a bit too hesitant for me to just take off.

“Are you sure? I can stay if you want me to.”  
“No, you don’t need to do that. I’ll be… We’ll be okay.”  
“I’m just a phone call away if you need me, okay? Doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night and I’m sleeping, okay?”

He nodded before walking over to Niall and Liam to wake them up. When we had successfully woken them up Louis and I helped them down to my car, where they fell asleep as soon as they were seated.

“Take care, Louis. Of both him and yourself and remember, I’m just a phone call away, okay?”  
“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Zayn.”

We hugged one more time before he turned around and went back upstairs and I climbed into my car and started the engine.

**Louis POV**

When I walked into the bedroom I expected to find him sound asleep. But he was curled up into a ball on top of the bedspread. I sat down beside him on the bed, gently laying my hand on his hip.

“Harry, I… We need to talk…”  
“Not now, please. Can’t we talk in the morning? I’m exhausted.”  
“Yeah, okay. Let’s sleep.”

When we we’re both curled up under the duvet I leant over, placed a light kiss on his forehead and whispered: “I love you, Harry.”

**Harry POV**

I needed to prove to Louis that there wasn’t anything wrong with me. I needed to prove that I didn’t have problem. In my mind it was simple. I just needed to eat something to prove to Louis nothing was wrong. I climbed out of bed and went to the kitchen.

There were take-out food containers in the fridge and I grab them and a fork, before starting to eat. I shovel food into my mouth, barely chews it before I swallow. It hurts my throat, but I need to prove to Louis he’s wrong. I eat until it feels like my stomach is about to explode.

_You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have eaten all that. Everyone will be disgusted with you. You will get fatter. You will be even more disgusting. You need to get rid of it. You need to get rid of it all or everyone will hate you, be disgusted by you._

I stagger to the bathroom where I sink down onto the floor. Arms around my legs as I rock back and forth, fighting the voice in my head. I need to prove to Louis that I don’t have a problem. I will not purge. I will not purge. I can eat, I can eat without having to purge afterwards, I can.

But I can’t. The voice wins. I jabbed my fingers down my throat. I gagged a couple of times before barely digested food comes rushing back up my throat. It comes out in big chunks and splashes into the toilet and I continue to thrust my fingers into the back of my throat until all that comes up is bile mixed with blood. I slump back against the bathtub. It hurts. Everything hurts. It feels like my body is on fire, inside and out. The tears are streaming down my face, ugly sobs ripping through my chest, my throat scratched raw and burning. I can’t breathe, my head is spinning and my chest hurts. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I do have a problem. The pain in my chest increases by the second. Something is wrong, something is really wrong. I struggle to get to stand up, stumbling back into the bedroom. Every breath is a struggle, I can hardly get any air into my lungs and black spots are dancing in front of my eyes, blurring my vision. I manage to get to Louis and shake him awake before my legs give up and I slump to the floor.

Louis sits up slowly, but as soon as he sees me he’s out of the bed and by my side in mere seconds.

“What’s wrong? Harry, what’s wrong?”   
“I don’t feel good. Feel… fuzzy and my chest hurts… can’t breathe…” I wheeze out before I lose consciousness.

**Louis POV**

“… my chest hurts… can’t breathe…” He wheezed before passing out, his body going completely limp.

“Harry? Harry?” No response.

I checked to see if he was breathing, he was, but very shallow. I held in my arms as I, with shaky fingers, dialed 999. I was surprised over how calm I was, it was like my body had understood that I would be more of a help to Harry if I kept calm rather than freaking out and panicking.

When I told the emergency-operator what had happened she told me to check for breathing and try to wake him.

“He’s breathing, but it’s very shallow and he doesn’t respond.” I croaked, panic starting to take me over more and more.   
“You need to start CPR as he may be going into cardiac arrest.”

That’s when I really understood the severity of the situation. She instructed me to put my phone on speaker-phone so that I could use both my hands and then to lay Harry so that he was flat on his back on the floor.

As she instructs me how to put my hands and how often and how hard I should do the chest compressions I do my best to not succumb to the panic. She stays with me on the line after I begged her not to leave me alone.

I continue with the chest compressions until I hear the door-bell.

“Can I stop the compressions? I need to open the door, the paramedics are here.”  
“Yes, you need to let them in so that they can help Harry.”   
“Please stay on the line?”  
“I’ll stay, go let the paramedics in.”

I get up and run to the front door, unlock it and then run back to Harry, starting chest compressions again. When the paramedics come into the bedroom I hesitantly step away to let them help Harry. I watched as in a haze when they put him on the stretcher, cut his t-shirt open to fasten electrodes on his chest. When I felt a hand on my shoulder I almost jumped.

“We’re ready to go. I assume you want to come with in the ambulance, am I right?”

I nodded and followed the paramedic down to the ambulance. Harry is hooked up to a heart monitor and the rhythmic beeping is comforting, it means he’s alive.

When we arrive at the A&E and they are wheeling Harry into a room the rhythmic beeping cuts off and he flat lines. It feels like the world is caving in when I hear paramedics and doctors shout that they need a crash cart. And that constant piercing beep will forever be etched in my memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say a big, massive thank you to Laura, Sammie, Lilian, Corinne and probably many more for helping me bringing this story to life. I don’t know what I would have done without you. 
> 
> Thank you Laura and Kate for your amazing ideas.   
> And Jill, can you read my mind or have you read my notes? :)
> 
> Keep coming with ideas and stuff you would like to read and I’ll do my best to make it happen :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I'm updating. I'm sorry. I have really lacked inspiration, or like not inspiration, but I haven't been able to put my ideas into words. does that make sense? 
> 
> ANYWAY, UPDATE!!

**Zayn POV**

I was woken up by the load shrill of my ringtone and groggily sat up and checked the display to see who was calling. It was Louis. I quickly accepted the call and pressed the phone to my ear. The heart wrenching sobbing that could be heard on the other end of the line made my heart almost stop in panic.

“Louis, what’s wrong?”

He was crying so hard he had trouble forming coherent sentences and it was difficult to make out the words. The words I did understand were Harry, heart and hospital. I knew I couldn’t panic, I had to be strong and be there for Louis.

“Louis, breathe. I’ll come there. Which hospital are you at?”   
“Barnet.” He choked out, finally taking a deep breath.  
“Just breathe and I’ll be with you before you know it.”

He hummed his acknowledgement before the line went dead.

**  
When I arrived at Barnet Hospital fifteen minutes later I found him sitting down, leaning against a wall near an entrance. His whole frame was shaking, his eyes turned up towards the night sky.

“Louis?” I said gently, to not startle him.

He turned his gaze towards me. His eyes were red, puffy and brimming with unshed tears.

“His heart stopped.” He cried, furiously wiping at his eyes.

He was only wearing a thin long-sleeved t-shirt, that did nothing to protect him from the icy wind and his teeth were chattering.

“Lou, let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.”  
“No, I can’t. I can’t go inside.”  
“You can, Louis. Come on. Let’s go talk to his doctor, okay?” I said and extended a hand for him to take.

He eventually took it and I helped him to his feet, pulling him into a hug, rubbing up and down his arms.

“Come on, let’s go inside and find his doctor, okay?”  
“I can’t, Zayn, I can’t.”   
”Do you want me to go inside to talk to his doctor and then come out and get you?”

He nodded against my shoulder and I reluctantly let him go and went inside.

**Louis POV**

Not many minutes had passed when Zayn came back, with a man in his forties right behind him.

“Is he dead?” I asked, voice shaking with panic and fear.   
“No, he’s alive.” The doctor was quick to reassure me. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you more.” He continued, opening the door and holding it open.

My legs were shaking so bad I would have crumbled to the floor if Zayn hadn’t put his arm around me, holding me up.

**  
Before the doctor let us into Harry’s room he quickly explained how Harry had suffered two cardiac arrests and as a result of them he had slipped into a coma. He explained that there was really no reason to worry about brain damage and that they were expecting Harry to wake up within the next 24 hours. The doctor had continued talking, but the words faded out, sounded so far away. I couldn’t take them in nor understand them. This was a kind of thing that never happened to you. It was one of those things you saw on TV or read about in the papers, but can’t imagine happening to you.

When we came into the room I stopped, standing frozen. All I could do was look at Harry. So fragile. His skin so pale it looked almost translucent. There were more tubes and wires connected to his fragile body than I could count. There were beeping and whirring machines, and every sound they made was a reassurance that despite looking so lifeless he was still alive.

He looked so peaceful in a way that I hadn’t seen him in a really long time. I was convinced that the doctor lied, Harry wasn’t in a coma. He was just sleeping and would wake up any minute now and smile. Be okay. I needed him to be okay. I needed him to be okay so bad it hurt.

**Zayn POV**

A sob ripped itself from him, so powerful his knees gave out and I couldn’t hold him up and he dropped to the floor. His knees made an awful cracking sound when they made contact with the linoleum floor. I dropped down beside him, gently putting my hand on his shoulder.

“Louis?”

The only answer I got was a heart-wrenching sob. He curled into a ball on the floor, gripping onto his thighs so hard his knuckles turned white. He cried so hard he choked on his sobs. I tried to comfort him the best I could, but it’s like he couldn’t hear or feel my presence. As I rubbed over his back, his muscles terribly tense, I could feel that he was not breathing.

“Louis, come on, you have to breathe.”

Just then he gulped in a huge breath of air, whimpered and then started sobbing again. The same pattern continued and I continued in vain to try and sooth him and coax him to breathe. He started really worrying me when the gulps of air became further apart and then he went completely still in my arms before uncurling himself, looking up at me, his eyes filled with fear, panic and desperation. “I can’t breathe.” He choked out, starting clawing at his chest and throat, as if to remove what was hindering him from breathing.

I was about to get up to get help when a nurse came into the room and she immediately came over to me and Louis.

“Is everything alright?”

Stupid question. Of course it wasn’t.

“No. He’s having a panic attack, I think and he said he can’t breathe, and I don’t know what to do.”

She patted my shoulder and told me she would go get an oxygen-mask and a sedative. I simply nodded, going back to trying to coax Louis back to a normal breathing pattern. It didn’t work and I was starting to fear that he might pass out.

When the nurse came back she was pushing a bed in front of her.

“I thought he might be more comfortable in a bed than on the floor or in that chair.” She said, nodding her head towards the armchair in the corner.

She gave me the oxygen-mask, instructing me to hold it over both his mouth and nose before she positioned the bed against the wall.

“Come on, let’s get you on the bed. Floor can’t be that comfortable.” She said, putting a gentle hand on Louis’ shoulder.

Me and the nurse, Kelly, helped a trembling Louis onto the bed. When Louis sat on the bed Kelly asked me to remove the oxygen-mask so Louis could take the sedative.

“If we can’t get him to swallow it we might have to administer an IV-line so he can get it intravenously.”

She put a hand on Louis’ shoulder and spoked softly:  
“Darling, you have to swallow this medicine. It will make you relax and feel better. It will help you breathe.”

Louis slowly opened his mouth and Kelly place the little white pill on his tongue and putting a glass of water against his lips and I watched her tilt the glass back, expecting the water to pour down his chin, but Louis took a big gulp and swallowed.

“Good job darling. You’ll feel better soon.”

The pill had almost instant effect and I could see him visible relax, sinking back against the pillow. I sat down on the edge of the bed, placing the oxygen-mask back over his mouth and nose.

Kelly apologized that she couldn’t bring two beds, to which I quickly replied, telling her I wasn’t planning on leaving him anyway, that it was fine and that I was thankful that we could stay with Harry. She smiled, nodded and told me to push the call-button if something happened or if we needed anything else before leaving.

“Zayn?” Louis said in a small voice.   
“Yes?”  
“Can you hold me?” His voice cracking.   
“Of course, love.” I said.

I took off both his and my shoes before helping him sit up so I could climb in behind him on the bed. I pulled him back so he was resting against my chest, helping him keep the oxygen-mask in place.

“Try to get some sleep, Lou.”

A few minutes later his eyes fluttered close, but they were only closed for a few seconds before they shot open again and Louis sat up with a start.

“What’s wrong?”  
“Harry.” He croaked out.   
“He’s here. He’s alive and will be okay.”

He nodded slowly, exhaustion clinging to his every feature, and laid back against me. Just as he was drifting off again he bolted up, breathing getting quick and shallow again.

“Louis, relax. Harry is okay.”  
“I keep seeing him, unconscious as soon as I close my eyes. It feels so real.”  
“He’s okay. The doctors are all here to help him if he should not be okay. Try to relax.”

He laid back against me again, closing his eyes and I could see him fighting to keep them closed.

“Harry is okay, Lou.” I said, rubbing a soothing hand on his chest. “Harry is okay. He will be just fine. He’ll need you well-rested when he wakes up, so you can be there for him.”  
“Mmm.” He mumbled sleepily.

Five minutes passed and he hadn’t opened his eyes, so I thought he had finally fallen asleep but then his eyes shot open again.

“I can’t.” He croaked.

I pushed the little red call-button and not even a minute later a nurse came into the room.

“Is everything alright?” He asked as he checked over all the machines connected to Harry.

I was about to start explaining when Louis said:   
“I can’t fall asleep cause every time I close my eyes I see Harry, unconscious on the floor and I need to sleep so I’ll be well rested and can take care of him and help him when he wakes up.”  
“Maybe you can give him something to help him fall asleep.” I said. “He’s been given a sedative about fifteen minutes ago. Can he still take the sleeping medicine?”   
“He can. I’ll go get one for you. Can I get you anything else?”  
“An extra blanket.” Louis said.

**

When Louis’ breathing had finally evened out and he was asleep, I carefully got out of the bed. I needed to call Harry’s parents as well as Gemma, Niall and Liam. I went out of the room, to the corridor, dialing Anne’s number first.

“Hello?” Anne said when she answered.   
“Hi Anne, it’s Zayn.”   
“Why are you… oh my god… is Harry okay?”  
“He’s alive. We’re at the hospital, his heart stopped.”  
“Oh my…” She let out a sob. “My baby.”

More sobbing and then there was a bit of rustling on the other end of the line.

“What happened?”

Robin.

“Harry’s heart stopped. We’re at the hospital. He’s alive.”  
“We’re coming down. Which hospital are you at?”  
“Barnet.”  
“We’ll be there as soon as we can.”  
“Yeah okay. I’ll call you if there’s an update.”  
“Thank you.”

**

The calls to Des and Gemma went similar. Both said they would come down as soon as they could. Gemma asked if she could bring anything and I was about to tell her that it was okay when she asked if Liam and Niall was there. I told her I was planning on calling them next and she offered to call and pick them up and I was grateful. I didn’t know if I would have been able to say everything all over again without breaking down.

**Gemma POV**

When we arrive at the A&E I spotted Zayn almost immediately were he sat slumped against a wall.

“Is he okay? Did something happen?”   
“Nothing has changed. I came out here to call everyone, so I wouldn’t wake Louis and then I haven’t found the strength to go back inside.”  
“Can I?” I said, gesturing towards the door.   
“Of course. I can go find his doctor if you want to talk to him.”   
“Please.”  
“I’ll go find his doctor for you.”

I nodded and opened the door and I could distantly hear Zayn talking to Niall and Liam before the door closed behind me and it was quiet, apart from whirring and beeping machines and Louis’ light snoring.

When I saw him my legs almost gave out. He looked dead. So pale, small and still. I sat down on the chair beside his bed and took his needle-free hand in mine, cradling it.

“Oh my… my little baby brother… what have you done to yourself?”

The door opened and Zayn, Niall and Liam came in along with a doctor.

“Is my brother going to be okay?” I asked, voice thick with tears.  
“We can’t give you a 100% promise that he will, but we are very positive that he will wake up within the next 24 hours. And though you can’t know for sure if the brain has been damaged until he wakes up, he shouldn’t have sustained any major damage. We’re going to take him for an MRI now. It will give us a better picture if he has sustained any brain-damage.”

**Zayn POV**

Two nurses came in after a few minutes and together with the doctor they brought Harry away to do an MRI. Soon after Kelly came into the room, telling us they were moving Harry to a new, bigger room.

**

After we were all settled in the new room Kelly asked us if we wanted her to bring us something to eat or drink. ‘Coffee would be nice’ was the resounding answer. Niall and Liam asked if she could bring some water and painkillers too. She gave them a soft smile and a nod before disappearing.

**  
Liam and Niall was lightly dosing off in one of the sofas, me and Gemma sitting on the other, slowly sipping on our coffees when the doctor and nurses wheeled Harry into the room.

“How did it go?” Gemma asked.  
“Just like we thought there was no signs of brain damage. Every part of his brain is working nicely.”

We let out a collective sigh of relief.

“What happens now?” Gemma questioned.   
“All we can do now is continue to give him nutrition-IV, to get some nutrition in him and wait for him to wake up.”  
“Isn’t there anything you can do to make him wake up faster?”  
“It can help him if he hears familiar voices, so try talking to him. I’m sorry there isn’t more we can do.”

**

I hadn’t realized I had fallen asleep until I was woken up by a constant buzzing. It took me a few seconds to understand that it was my phone that was vibrating. Picking it up from the table I saw Anne’s name flash across the display.

“Hello?”  
“We’re here now. Gemma texted and told us to call her when we arrived, but she isn’t answering.”  
“Okay, hang on, I’ll come down.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it's taking me so long to update, I have had some serious writers block :(  
> Comments and kudos make my day :)

**Louis POV**

I woke up dazed and confused, not being able to remember where or when I fell asleep. It felt like I had slept forever, but I was still so tired. It was like exhaustion had seeped into my bones and refused to let go. I sat up slowly, taking in my surroundings. Hospital. Harry. Where was Harry? Had he died? Had they taken him away from me?

I blinked a couple of times to get rid of the sleep-gravel and then saw him. He was still in the bed, machines beeping.

“He’s okay.”

I snapped my head towards the voice and saw Gemma getting up from a couch.

“His values have actually improved since he came in.” She continued. “They have done an MRI and everything is working normally and there’s no sign of brain damage.”

She answered all my question without me having to ask them.

“When will he wake up?” I winced at the gravely sound of my own voice.   
“They think he will wake up during the day today and that it could help him to wake up sooner if he heard familiar voices, so we should talk to him.”

She sat down on the bed beside me, holding her arms out, offering me a hug which I accepted.

**

When Niall came back I was still cuddled up in Gemma’s arms.

“It’s nice seeing you awake, Lou. Are you okay?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“He’ll be okay.”  
“I know, it just hurts watching him do this to himself.”

**

“What should I talk about though? Should I like talk with him or could I just talk with you, because I don’t know if I can handle talking to him and not getting an answer.”  
“Tell him how you’re feeling. About his eating disorder, him being in a coma, his heart stopping.”  
“I don’t know if I can do that.”  
“Try. It will be good for both of you.”  
“But what if he doesn’t hear me?”  
“It’s good for you to get it off your chest. Whether he hears you or not.”

The therapist, Emma, was doing her best to encourage me to talk to Harry about my feelings on everything that was going on, but it wasn’t that easy.

“Come on, come here.” Emma then said, motioning for me to go over to her.  
“I’m not leaving him.” I said, panic lingering in my voice just at the thought of leaving Harry.  
“No, I know. Come. Sit here, beside him. And if you feel like you can handle it, hold his hand.”

I was about to protest when Emma continued:  
“I know it’s hard, but sometimes it helps.”  
“Who?” I asked as I slowly walked over to where Emma was standing beside Harry’s bed.   
“My dad.”  
“Did he..?”  
“Yeah, he woke up, he wasn’t himself, but he was alive.”  
“I’m scared that’s gonna happen to Harry. That he won’t be my Harry when he wakes up.”  
“Harry doesn’t have any brain damage. My dad was without oxygen for 10 minutes and had significant brain damage, so I can almost promise you that in the worst case scenario Harry might have a minor memory-loss about the event itself, and even if he does, it’s most likely just temporary.”  
“I don’t want him to remember.”

I sat down in the chair. He looked even paler, sicker up close and I could feel tears burning behind my eyelids. I swallowed hard and said:   
“Did it help for you to hold your dads hand?”  
“It did. And it might help Harry as well. Letting him know that you’re here.”

I carefully placed my hand right beside his on the white hospital blanket, closed my eyes and then took his hand in mine. I had expected it to be cold, lifeless, but it wasn’t.

I had thought that it would be hard to talk to Harry, talk about my feelings, but when I started talking I couldn’t stop. The words poured out of in the same pace as the tears. I was vaguely aware of the pack of tissues Emma placed on the bed but I couldn’t take my eyes of Harry.

“Why are you doing this to yourself? Why didn’t I notice sooner? I feel so guilty for not noticing that something was wrong sooner. Maybe then it wouldn’t have gotten this bad. Maybe I could have prevented it from getting this bad. I should have been stricter and made sure you ate or I should have brought to a hospital sooner.”

I stopped to take a deep breath before I continued.

“Do you have any idea how painful it is to watch you waste away? How painful it is to hear you talk about yourself with such hatred? To see you smile when you realize you’ve lost even more weight? To see you collapse on the floor and then not being able to wake you? To hear you make yourself throw up? To find you sitting on the couch so out of it because you’re so dehydrated your body is shutting down? To walk in on you having a seizure?”

How I could still form coherent sentences was beyond me. I took a few deep breaths, starting to gently stroke the back of Harry’s hand with my thumb, before continuing.

“I wonder if you know how painful it is to hear you lie. To watch you pinch your skin, looking like you want to tear it off? To hear you cry? Do you have any idea at all how much it hurts to see you do this to yourself? Do you have any idea how painful it is to watch you care so little about someone I care so much about?”

I grew silent, trying to put my swirling thoughts into words.

“I feel so incredibly helpless because it feels like there is nothing I can do to help you. You’re disappearing right in front of my eyes and there is nothing I can do. To see you have a panic attack, it’s one of the worst feelings in the world, cause there is nothing I can do to make it stop, all I can do is be there and it never feels like it’s enough. But the thing that hurts most is knowing that no matter how painful, hard and terrifying I find this, it’s even more painful, hard and terrifying for you. I want to be able to hug you without being scared that I might break you, it’s painful to hug you and feel all your bones stick out. I want to be able to look in your eyes and see life there, not just the empty, lifeless darkness that fill them now. I wish and pray every day that you will get better, and I hope that you know that I will be there every step of the way, doing my best to help you. I’m so terrified of losing you. I love you, Harry. So much, and I miss you. Please… please come back to me.”

The dam was broken and before I knew it I was crying so hard my whole body was shaking and I couldn’t catch my breath. I was only vaguely aware of that Emma put a hand on my shoulder. I could hear her talking but I couldn’t understand what she said.

**Niall POV**

The first thing I heard when I got closer to Harry’s room was the loud crying and it made my heart leap into my throat. What if something had happened? I increased my pace and swung the door open.

Louis clutching Harry’s hand, crying and someone trying to console him was the sight that met me inside the room.

“What happened? Is Harry okay?” I asked, feeling the panic start to build in my chest.

The person trying to console Louis turned around, startled.

“Harry is okay.” She said.

“Then why is Louis so upset?”  
“I encouraged him to talk about how he felt with Harry, about Harry’s eating disorder and the coma.”  
“Why?”  
“It can help, both Louis and Harry. I encourage you to talk about how you feel too. It’s not good to keep your feelings bottled up inside.”

I nodded at her before walking over to Louis, pulling his shaking form into a hug. He jerked, let go of Harry’s hand and clung to me.

I heard a scraping sound behind me and turned around to the girl, maybe a nurse, pulling over the big armchair. I mumbled a ‘thank you’ before guiding Louis so we both could sit down in the armchair. The nurse-girl said something about giving us some privacy before she left the room, closing the door behind her. Louis cuddled up against me, fisting my shirt so hard his knuckles turned white, continuing to cry hard and I noticed he wasn’t breathing, just gasping for air every now and then.

“You’re okay, Louis. It will be okay. I need you to breathe, okay?”

It took a while, but finally the racking sobs turned into tiny hiccups.

**

“Harry, I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner that something was wrong. I should have noticed, fuck I should’ve seen that something was wrong.”

I carded my fingers through Louis’ hair as I continued talking and I could feel Louis’ fingers gently wipe away my tears. It was hard letting your feelings out.

“I wish I could take all your pain so that you don’t have to suffer.”

At that Louis wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his neck, letting the tears wet his shirt.

“No.”

It was weak and barely audible, but it was there and both of us startled and turned around to see Harry looking back at us.

Harry was awake.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all pray and hope that it won't take me two months to give update again. xx

**Louis POV**

“Ohgod, ohmygod, you’re awake, ohmygod.” I said, in part disbelief, part relief.

“I’ll go find a nurse or a doctor and tell them you’re awake.” Niall said smiling.

I wanted to hug him and hold him close, but there were tubes and wires everywhere and in fear of pulling something out I settled for gently placing a kiss on his forehead, stroking over his hair.

“I’m so relieved you’re finally awake. I thought I had lost you.”  
“What do you mean I’m awake? Why’d you thought you lost me? And why is Niall getting a nurse? What happened? Where am I?”

He looked so confused.

“You’re in the hospital. You don’t remember anything, do you?”  
“No, or I don’t know what I should remember.”  
“What’s the last thing you do remember?”  
“Running off to Zayn’s.”  
“Okay, well after you got home from Zayn you and I went to bed and at least I fell asleep only to wake up about an hour later by you franticly trying to wake me up. Then you collapsed on the floor and I couldn’t wake you up. I called an ambulance and they told me to do CPR and when we arrived at the hospital your heart stopped. Twice. The next things are a bit fuzzy because I’ve only been told what happened. So according to the doctor they brought you back and then your heart stopped again and they brought you back once more and then you slipped into a coma.”   
“Oh.” Was the only thing he said, staring down at his hands in his lap.

**

After Niall had returned with a doctor and the doctor had checked Harry over as well as changed his IV-bag, me, Harry and Niall were left alone in the room and Harry looked up from his lap for the first time since I had told him what happened.

“Niall, why do you have dicks on your face?”

I had not expected that to come out of his mouth and I couldn’t hold back the laugh that was bubbling inside me. Niall got up from his chair really quick and sprinted to the adjoining bathroom to, what I assumed, look in the mirror.

When the laugh had subsided I explained the reason behind the dicks.

“Him and Liam came over to cheer me up or calm me down or keep me company or something when you ran off to Zayn.”

I pretended not to see the pain that flashed in his eyes and continued.

“And they got drunk and decided to draw dicks on each other.”  
“So Liam got dicks on his face as well?”  
“Yeah…”

We both grew quiet. It was clear we both were avoiding the inevitable, but it needed to happen and it would sooner or later, so why not get it over with?

“Harry we need to talk.”

He nodded and said:   
“Yeah, I know.”

“I heard you, you know.” He continued.   
“You did? How much did you hear?”  
“Everything.”   
“So then you know how I feel?”  
“Umhum. And I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I hurt you so much. I never meant to hurt you. I swear I didn’t.”  
“I know you didn’t, Harry. I know you didn’t.”

I had to hug him, I had too. He must have felt the same way because he opened his arms for me as soon as he saw me standing up from the chair.

“I think I may have a problem.” He breathed into the skin of my neck.

We broke apart and I sat down in the chair again.

“I may have a problem but I don’t need nor want to go to any treatment center. I can get better on my own.”  
“It’s not that I don’t believe you can, it’s just that I’m not willing to take the risk. What if your heart stops again or if another one of your organs shut down? Then what? You need help, Harry. Help from people who know how to help you.”  
“It’s up to me if I want to go to treatment or not.”  
“Actually you don’t get a say about this. Whether you’re going voluntarily or not, you’re going.”  
“I’m over 18. You can’t force me there against my will.”  
“Actually I can. If you don’t go there without force, me and your parents can and will have you declared mentally incompetent to care for your wellbeing. So you’re going to go to this treatment center whether you want to or not. I will carry you there if I have to, but please don’t make me go that far. Just know that I will do whatever it takes to get you treatment. But I would much rather see you going there without me having to force you.”  
“I want to be alone. Can I be alone, please?”

I didn’t move, I couldn’t move.

“Get out!” He screamed and his whole body practically vibrated with anger.

“Go! Get out!” Tears welling up in his eyes and I stood up and walked out of the room.

**Harry POV**

How can he do this to me? Declare me mentally incompetent? How dare he even think about it? I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to throw something and watch it shatter. I wanted to cry. I wanted to slice myself open. I wanted to curl up into a small ball and disappear. Anger, frustration, sadness, loneliness, fear and helplessness swirled in an emotional tornado inside me.

I could hear Louis’ voice. He was just outside the door. I wanted to call for him and ask him to come back. Part of me wanted nothing but being enveloped in his arms and part of me wanted to run away, run as far away from Louis as possible.

I don’t know how long I was alone before a doctor came in.

“Hello, Mr. Styles. It’s nice to see you awake.”  
“Harry.”   
“Have Louis told you what happened?”

I nodded.

“But I can’t remember it. Is that bad?”  
“No, it’s perfectly normal considering what your body has been through.”  
“Will I ever remember?”  
“The memory-loss is most likely temporary.

“When can I go home?”  
“We’re going to keep you in hospital for refeeding until we see that you’re not at risk for developing Refeeding Syndrome, that usually takes about a week. We also need to make sure the cardiac arrests you suffered hasn’t left any permanent damage and that you have a support system that can help you maintain your meal plan at home. So it will be a while before you can go home, Harry.”

I tried really hard to listen to what the doctor said after that, but it was almost impossible to concentrate on the words coming out of the doctor’s mouth when the voice in my head started screaming.

_‘Get out of here! Get away from these people. They are trying to ruin everything for you. Run away!’_

“…a nurse will be in shortly, okay?”

I just nodded, not knowing what to say. Around ten minutes later there was a soft knock on the door before a nurse came in.

“Hi, my name is Kelly. It’s nice to see you awake.”  
“Mhm.”  
“I come bringing food.”

I looked at the tray in her hands. It was a plate with rice and fish and a glass of milk.

“I’m not going to eat that.”  
“Yes, you are.”  
“No, I’m not.”  
“You don’t really have a choice anymore, I’m afraid.”  
“You can’t force me to eat.”  
“If you don’t eat this I will go get nutrient-drinks instead and you’ll have to drink that.”  
“I’m not eating. Or drinking for that matter.”  
“If you refuse to eat the food or drink the nutrient-drink we will have to put in a feeding tube. We have to get nutrient into your body somehow or it will give up.”  
“I don’t want any nutrient.”

Kelly placed the food-tray on the table by the couch and sat down in the armchair beside my bed.

“Do you want to die, Harry?”

Well, okay. That was blunt.

“Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t start giving your body nutrients.” She continued.   
“No, I don’t want to die.”  
“Good, then what will it be? Are you going to eat the food or do you want me to go get a nutrient-drink instead or should we put in a feeding tube?”  
“I’m not going to eat or drink.”  
“Feeding tube it is then.”  
“I don’t want it.”  
“I know you don’t, but if you refuse to eat or drink anything we have to put one in.”

“Can you ask Louis to come back?”  
“Of course, I’ll be back in a few, okay?”

I nodded, hoping Louis would come back. What if he didn’t come back? What if he had left? What if he had left me and was not coming back?

When the door opened a few minutes later I expected it to the nurse, but it was Louis. I reached out for him, wanting, needing him to hold me. I couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks, tears of relief as I sobbed:   
“I thought you had left. I’ll go. I’ll go to the treatment center. Just don’t leave. Please don’t leave me.”  
“I will never leave you, Harry. Never.” Louis said with a smile and enveloped me in his arms. “I’ll never leave you.”

**

“I don’t need to be sedated this time. I can stay calm and do what you tell me to.”

Louis’ face lighted up with pride.

“Can you hold my hand when they put it in?” I asked and looked at Louis.  
“Of course.”

I took his hand in mine and he intertwined our fingers.

**

It was unpleasant and uncomfortable, but it was so much easier when I cooperated and did as they told me to. Be still, tilt your head backwards, drink a sip of water to help the tube pass the gag-reflex. And Louis soft, warm hands as well as his whispered encouragements helped me stay grounded and calm. When it was over and the tube was taped to my left cheek I was proud. Proud of myself, I had done it without freaking out or needing to be sedated.

What came next however was just as horrible as I remembered. The lack of control. The ache that grew. It was all the same. And the worst thing was knowing that this was most probably not going to be the last time. Tube feeding, two words I never wanted to hear or experience again.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here!!  
> just over 2000 words, has to be the longest chapter so far.  
> *fingers crossed that inspiration will stay with me*

**Louis POV**

After the feeding he had a panic attack and I did my best to get him to take deep breaths, but nothing worked and I asked one of the nurses to give him a sedative. When it kicked in and he had fallen asleep, head against my chest, the doctor told me about Harry’s condition. He told me signs and symptoms of refeeding syndrome which Harry was at high risk for developing, starving himself for so long, having a bmi of only 10. He told me about what were just normal symptoms in the refeeding process, he told me that they had a therapist that Harry was gonna see and that they were gonna do an echocardiogram, a ultrasound of the heart, in a couple of days to see if it the cardiac arrests Harry suffered had left any permanent damage. I nodded to show I was listening, trying to take in and process all the information.

When Niall came back I collapsed in his arms and he held me as I cried and cried and cried until I eventually fell asleep from the pure exhaustion of crying.

**

The next few days were hell. I don’t know what was worst, the loud body-wracking sobbing or the silent crying. When he screaming pulled his tube out to do something to stop the pain or when he was lying in fetal-position, staring with empty eyes, letting out pained, quiet whimpers. One of the most painful things was watching him hurt and knowing that I couldn’t do anything to make it better.

**

He had begged me through the entire feed to stop it. And it pained me to say no. I didn’t want him to hurt, but I knew that if I stopped the feed I would not be helping him. And even now when his pleas had died down I could still hear them ringing in my ears.

“Please, stop it. I can’t handle it.”

He was lying in the bed, a thick blanket over his tiny, bony frame. His eyes were closed but I knew he wasn’t sleeping, even though the purple circles under his eyes were painful evidence of his exhaustion. My heart broke a little more with each of his shaky breaths. He was trembling with anxiety and I felt so bad for him, wishing there was something that I could do to help him.

**

He had the thin hospital blanket pulled up all the way to his chin where he was laying on the examination table, eyes closed. I wanted to say something, anything, but no words could make it better, no words could make it less painful.

When the doctor came in he introduced himself as Daniel and looked apologetic when he told Harry he had to remove the blanket so that he could perform the echocardiogram. I pretended not to hear the gasp from Daniel when Harry lowered the blanket and bundled it up on his thighs. The bones and the scars, the destruction, the suffering so evident it was like a punch to the face. It didn’t matter that I had seen it before, it was still just as painful as the first time and I had to try so hard to not let it show how much my heart was breaking.

Harry flinched when Daniel put the end of the wand on his chest, goosebumps breaking out all over his body. He had his eyes closed, silent tears leaking out from under his eyelids. I held his hand while Daniel moved the wand over his chest, stroking with my thumb over his knuckles, offering what little comfort I could. I willed myself not to cry, trying not to see how visible Harry’s heart beat was under his paper thin skin, how his whole chest seemed to vibrate with each breath he took, but still so immensely grateful it was there. And the scars, the bones, it was one thing knowing they’re there and a totally different actually seeing them.

40 minutes later the test was finally done and Daniel wiped of the gel from Harry’s chest and told us that everything looked fine and that Harry’s doctor would come by later to talk about what would happen next.

“I can see that you’re upset and I know it’s because of me.”  
“Harry…”  
“I want to see what you see. When you look at me.”

I felt like I was breaking, I felt like crying and screaming and I wished more than anything that I could just snap my fingers and he would be all better.

“I wondered if you maybe… can take a picture of me… like this I mean. Maybe it will help, you know, help me realize that… my eyes don’t tell the truth.”

**

Recovery was rough, no recovery i

was hell. I’m so tired of recovery. I was tired of being in pain all the time, of constantly feeling bloated, of constantly feeling sick. Recovery sucks, recovery hurts and I wanted to go back to green tea, celery and being in control. I couldn’t stand recovery.

_Then get the hell out of here!_

But I will hurt Louis even more if I just run away.

_He only wants you to get fat._

He wants me to be healthy. He doesn’t want me to get fat.

_He made you finish the feed even though you told him you felt sick. Doesn’t that tell you something?_

The voice was right, as always. I needed to get out of here or I would get fat.

_Fatter than you already are._

It was dinner-feed in fifteen minutes so I had to be quick if I wanted to get out before that, and I wanted to. The dinner-feed was the hardest to deal with, for two reasons. For one it was the biggest feed and second, you still felt full and bloated from the lunch-feed. I was for once alone in my room, no nurse, no doctor, no boys, no family. Something what hadn’t happened since I was admitted to the hospital almost a week ago.

I knew that if I detached the electrodes it would set the heart-monitor off, so I pulled the plug to the machine out first and then tore the seven sticky electrodes off my chest, relishing in the burning pain it caused. My knitted sweater would take too long to put on because of the tube. I thought about leaving without a sweater when I saw Louis’ dark red zipped hoodie hanging over the armchair. I picked it up and put it on before checking the time again, ten minutes left before the dinner-feed, and left.

It was pathetic, really. I only made it 50 meters down the corridor to an emergency stairwell and down one flight of stairs before my legs gave out underneath me and I sank down to the cold, hard floor.

My body was so weak, only thriving of the adrenaline coursing through my veins. But now the adrenaline started to wear off and I had no energy to get up. I could feel the cold from the floor seeping into my aching bones and I felt tears of frustration starting to pool in my eyes, and there was nothing I could do.

_You can’t even do something as simple as running away, you pathetic, fat piece of shit._

**

**Liam POV**

“Have you guys talked about how all this makes you feel?”

When we all shook our heads the therapist continued:  
“I think it would be good for you to let out your feelings, thoughts and worries. It’s not good to keep it all bottled up inside.”

**

Almost an hour later I felt emotionally drained and by the look of it the other boys felt the same. The therapist, Sonia, had told us that it wasn’t our fault for not noticing sooner that something was wrong with Harry. She talked about how this doesn’t happen overnight and if you spend loads of time with the ill person you don’t pick up on the change as much as someone who sees them once every few months.

“You don’t lose this much weight in a day. It happens over time and the change is so small and gradual and hard to pick up on when you spend almost all day every day with him. If you saw Harry one day and he was healthy and then you don’t see him again for say two-three months and in that time he has developed disordered behaviors and lost a lot of weight you would have noticed.”

She also told us that we hadn’t noticed that something was wrong with Harry because Harry simply didn’t want us to know. He didn’t want us to know. Louis broke down in tears at that.

 “You know now and that’s what’s important. Now you know and now you can help him get better. Feeling guilty and blaming yourself for not noticing sooner is not going to do anything to help Harry get better.”

And she was right, but the guilt was still there.

**

We were just about to leave Sonia’s office when a nurse came bursting through the door.

“Harry… Harry is gone.”   
“What the fuck do you mean by ‘Harry is gone’?!” Louis roared.   
“He wasn’t in his room when I went in to start the dinner-feed.”

The nurse had barely finished her sentence before we were all out of the room, running in different directions to try to find Harry.

He couldn’t have gotten too far.

**

He was sitting slumped against the wall in the emergency-stairwell. I sat down beside him and when he looked up at me I could see the tears.

“Come here.” I said, opening my arms.

He fell into my arms, burying his face in my shirt.

“I want to go home.” He sobbed. “I don’t… want to be… he..here…”  
“It’s gonna be okay.” I tried to comfort him, rubbing over his back.   
“Don’t tell Lo…uis. Plea..see don’t tell him. He’s… he’s gonna be so… mad at me. He’s gonna… hate me.”  
“He already knows Harry and he’s not mad at you, nor will he be. And he doesn’t hate you. He’s just very worried about you.”  
“Please don’t make me go back. I can’t handle it, it’s too much.” He begged, breathing getting ragged.   
“I have to. I have to take you back.”  
“No, no, no, no, no, no please, no, no please.”

He was not breathing okay, his fragile frame shaking in my arms, a panic attack.

“Harry, come on you have to breathe. Breathe with me.”

But it was useless, no matter how I tried to coax into breathing, into calming down, nothing worked and just as I was about to get up so I could get him back to the room I felt him sag against me. He had passed out. I held him tighter and stood up with him in my arms. Feeling the puffs of air against my neck was calming, he was breathing okay again. Only seconds later he blinked awake and immediately starting to protest.

“Hush. I’m taking you back to your room and that’s the end of it.”

He sighed in defeat, but relaxed, resting his head on my shoulder.

**

**Harry POV**

“How could you do that?” He yelled.

He was mad. I knew he was going to be.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was? Did you even care?”

I curled into a ball on the bed, trying to make myself as small as possible, trying to sink into the sheets to get away from the harsh words Louis was throwing at me.

“Do you even want me here? Or would you rather I just disappeared? You would like that, wouldn’t you? For me to disappear so that you could continue to destroy yourself, so that you could kill yourself. That’s what you want, right? To die? Well go right ahead.”

He slammed the door behind as he walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments makes my day, makes it easier to write.
> 
> (also, please don't hate Louis.)   
> (or me.)


	32. Chapter 32

Hi everyone.

I’m sorry I haven’t updated for like two months. I’m really struggling at the moment. Not just with writing, but with life in general.  
My own eating disorder demons are screaming louder and are harder to ignore. My ocd demons and my phobias are taking up a lot of my time as well, and a lot of energy.  
Some days it feels like it would be easier and less painful for me and everyone around me if I disappeared.

So I apologize I haven’t been writing and updating. Hoping that I will feel better soon, so not so much energy is spent on battling demons and can be spent writing instead.  
Also, thank you so much for your patience with me and my slow updates.

Comments are making my day much brighter and comments and kudos are both things that keeps me motivated to continue to write. 

xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

**Louis POV**

_Fuck. How could I do that? How could I say that?_

Guilt churning inside me, making me feel sick to my stomach. I could hear him crying. I wanted to go back in there, comfort him. But I knew that I was probably the last person he wanted to see right now.

“Louis.”

Gemma’s voice brought me out of my thoughts and back to reality.

“What’s wrong?” She asked and I felt her putting her arms around me from behind.

I broke free from her embrace and said:   
“I yelled at him. I was so worried and it just snapped.”

She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her judging me, thinking I was the worst person alive.

“I shouldn’t have. I just got so worried when he ran away. I didn’t know what to and now I feel so guilty I feel sick.”  
“He ran away?” Gemma asked.

I nodded, feeling her pulling me into an embrace once again.

“I would probably have yelled at him too.”

That didn’t make me feel any better. There were so many emotions inside me and it made my limbs crawl and I started shaking in Gemma’s arms.

“I’m going outside. I need some air.” I said, suddenly feeling like the smell of hospital was suffocating me.   
“Do you want me to come with you?”  
“No, I need to be alone. Go in and be with Harry. And don’t yell at him, he doesn’t need any more of that.”

She tightened her arms around me for a moment before she let go and walked towards Harry’s room. As soon as the door had closed behind her I almost ran outside.

**

It didn’t feel better being outside, it was almost worse. My skin was crawling, anger and guilt coursing through my veins, making me tremble. I didn’t know what to do or where to go to get everything to stop being so intense. I looked around, frantic for something that could stop me from feeling like this.

It happened so fast I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing until my now split knuckles throbbed in pain. I had smashed my fist into the brick wall of the hospital. I looked down at my hand, watching the blood ooze from my knuckles, trickling down my hand, staining my shirt red.

Was this how Harry felt when he was cutting? A physical release of emotional turmoil.

I didn’t know how long I had been standing there staring at my hand, watching how the blood soaked into the sleeve of my shirt when Gemma broke the silence.

“There you… are…” She trailed off, staring at my hand.   
“What have you done?” She asked after a couple of seconds, moving closer to me.

How should I explain? I barely understood myself what had happened.

“Smashed my fist into the wall.” I simply said, that part was obvious.  
“Why?”  
“Don’t know.”

There were a few moments of silence before Gemma spoke again.

“He thinks you’re mad at him and he blames himself for making you mad and thinks he deserves getting yelled at. He asked me to go get you. He wants you to come back. Says he needs to apologize to you.”  
“I can’t go back in there and have _him_ apologize to _me_ when I’m the one who should be apologizing to him. I just can’t.”  
“I know and I told him as much, but he kept insisting he _had_ to apologize to you.”   
“I won’t let him, cause he has nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who owe him an apology, or a million apologies. And even if he forgives me, I’m not sure I can forgive myself.”

Gemma didn’t say anything, just hugged me tight.

“Before we go back we need to get someone to look at your hand.” She said when she let me go.

***

When the nurse was done stitching my split knuckles together and wrapped bandage around my hand it took a lot of coaxing from Gemma’s side for me to make it back into Harry’s room.

The first thing Harry said was:  
“What happened to your hand?”  
“I kind of smashed it against a wall.”  
“Why?”  
“I yelled at you. And I shouldn’t have. I felt so guilty and angry at myself that I felt sick and I didn’t know what to do or where to go. And as crazy as it sounds I wasn’t really aware of what I was doing until my knuckles had split open.”  
“I’m sor…”  
“No, I won’t let you apologize. You have done nothing wrong. I’m the one who owe you an apology, but there is no apology in the world that could ever be enough, and if you can’t forgive me I will understand. I really am so, so incredible sorry.”  
“I kind of asked for it though. With running away, I mean. I forgive you.”  
“Not that you have anything to apologize for.” He continued under his breath and I don’t think I was supposed to hear it.   
“Yes I do.”

Harry was about to start protesting when I interrupted him and said:  
“I do, now shut up.”

**

“I don’t understand why he’s still with me, why he hasn’t left.”  
“He loves you.”

They must think I’m still asleep, because it didn’t seem like it was a conversation I was supposed to hear. I should let them know I was awake, but I wanted to hear what they were saying.

“But how can he? All I’m doing is hurting him. He deserves so much better.”

Gemma tried to comfort and reason with him but Harry just rambled on about how worthless he was, how I deserved better, how he didn’t deserve me and I couldn’t hold back the sob that tore itself from my throat. It was heartbreaking to hear him talk that way about himself.

Harry turned to me so fast the sob had barely passed my lips. Our eyes met and I could see that his were filled with unshed tears too.

“How much did you hear?” He asked, voice on the verge of breaking.  
“Enough.” I croaked out. “And none of it is true. I love you and I always will. Can I hold you?”

He nodded, as the first tear made its way down his sunken cheek.

Despite the awkward angle and the cautiousness to not rip out any wires or tubes it was one of the best hugs ever. It felt like forever since I had held him and it felt so good to have him in my arms.

And of course that’s the exact moment a nurse decides to come into the room.  
    
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have to check your vitals every hour, Harry.”  
“It’s okay.” I said.   
“I also have something I need to talk to you about.” The nurse said, looking at me.

At that Harry broke our embrace and curled into a ball on the bed. It was like he knew what the nurse was about to tell me. After checking Harry’s vitals he said:

“Harry, do you want to tell them or do you want me to do it?”  
“Do you really have to tell them?” Harry asked, already sounding defeated.   
“I do, they need to know. So do you want to tell them or should I?”  
“Whatever.” It was like he knew it wasn’t worth the fight, that the nurse would ‘win’ in the end.

When Harry didn’t say anything more the nurse said:  
“I found Harry making himself sick. Which explains why his vitals are lower now than an hour ago.”

I could sense that Harry was thinking I was gonna freak out and yell at him again, but to be honest it didn’t surprise me that he had been caught purging. I simply nodded and thanked the nurse for telling us.

**

**Harry POV**

I woke up with a start, drenched in sweat, trying to shake off the last lingering images from the nightmare. When Louis told me I could talk about the nightmare if I wanted to I just knew that if I tried to explain to him I would sound positively crazy. It wouldn’t make sense to Louis, so I ended up not saying anything. When I tried to go back to sleep, I couldn’t. I felt too hot with a blanket and too cold without one and I couldn’t completely shake the nightmare. Images of being held down and force feed until I was obese was etched onto the inside of my eyelids.

**

The doctor explained to me that I was hypermetabolic, that’s why I was feeling so warm instead of freezing, waking up drenched in sweat. That was also why I didn’t gain as much weight as they wanted me to, a fact that made me both ecstatically happy and guilty. I could see my friends and family as well as doctors and nurses being concerned and worried. At the same time I felt happy about not getting fatter I felt like a disappointment because I wasn’t gaining weight.

The doctors didn’t want to risk me developing refeeding syndrome by upping my calories too quickly, much to Louis and the boys dismay.

Even with the lack of weight gain I still begged them not to give me more feeds.

“I hate you for making me do this.” I had screamed to Louis on one occasion. Which had led to me feeling so guilty I hadn’t been able to talk to him the rest of the day.

I went from threating to rip the tube out if they gave me another feed to begging them to hold me down if I did try, and the whole thing with fighting myself all the time made me exhausted.

**  
When I was finally discharged from the hospital I was over the moon with joy at the same time I felt tired, achy and sweaty, which the doctors had explained was totally normal in the beginning of recovery. It was gonna be nice to sleep in our bed, but most of all I was happy to not have a nurse come into the room once every hour to take my vitals.


	33. IMPORTANT NOTE

Hi, 

I don't know how many of you that read my note that I had put in the beginning of the last chapter so I wanted to write a new one,  that I hope you all read. And yes I'm aware I'm one of those who posts and makes you think its a new chapter and then its just a note and for that I'm sorry. 

First I would like to apologize deeply for updating so slowly. I want you to know that I'm doing my best to update more often but sometimes I trigger myself with writing and then I have to put my health first. Also writiers block is a bitch. 

Second, as much as I love your comments (I really, really do) the comments that are just 'update, update asap' (and the like) I find a bit stressful, coz I'm (as I said) trying my best. And I know its because you like the story and want more to read and I understand that,  I do. I'm feel the same while reading a fic that's WIP. I'm sorry if I have offended someone or something, that was not my intention at all. Just wanted to tell you how I feel.  

And third, and finally some good news, I don't know when I'm gonna be finished with the next chapter (being a perfectionist sucks sometimes) but I have written 1700 words and I've not done half yet,  so whenever it will be up, its gonna be a long one. So something to look forward too. Also, its gonna be quite dramatic! :) 

I also have some questions!

#1: what would you like to see happen at the treatment center? 

#2: I've been thinking of ending this story soon and then write the treatment center /recovery part in a sequal, what do you guys think? 

If you want to talk or come with ideas, you can of course leave a comment here or you could come say hi on twitter, I don't bite, I promise. (@littlemagiclou) 

Last of all I just want to thank you all. I don't have words for how much it means to me that you actually wants to read what I write, it's mindblowing for me. 

Love you and thank you for sticknng with me and this story xx 


	34. Chapter 34

The first thing Harry does when they get home in the evening is going into the bathroom. Louis doesn’t think too much about it, assuming Harry wants to shower to wash off the smell of hospital. But it doesn’t take more than ten minutes before the unmistakable sound of vomiting can be heard from the bathroom, even over the sound of the shower. Louis knows he should stop Harry, shouldn’t be letting him purge, but he has no energy to take the fight, he’s just feeling numb, empty and powerless. It’s like nothing he does is enough, like it doesn’t help Harry recover. He can’t deal with this right now, he just can’t, so instead of stopping Harry from purging he goes out on the balcony and slides the door shut behind him.

Louis lights a cigarette, takes a long drag of it, and keeps the smoke in his mouth as long as he can before blowing it out. His eyes follow the smoke as it billows towards the sky. He keep looking up at the clouded night-sky to avoid watching the closed bathroom door.

Just as he stubs out his third cigarette he sees the bathroom door being opened in the corner of his eye. He stays out on the balcony, lighting another cigarette, trying to win time until he has to face Harry, debating with himself whether or not he should tell Harry that he heard him.

When Louis has worked up enough courage to go back inside he goes to take a shower, the hospital-smell clinging to his skin like poison, also he probably smells like a chimney now after all those cigarettes.  But as soon as he steps into the bathroom he stops dead in his tracks. The pungent, sour smell of vomit mixed with a heavy dose of their lavender air freshener is too much for him to bear. The fact that Harry still tries to hide this from him stings.

It is the tissues blotched with blood sticking out of the overfull trashcan that makes him snap back to reality.

He can’t reverse the purging, but he can make sure Harry has put proper bandages on his cuts and doesn’t bleed out. He fills up a glass of water and makes his way to the bedroom. He can at least try to keep Harry hydrated.

“Did you clean and wrap the cuts properly?” Is the first thing Louis says when he enters the bedroom, seeing Harry sitting up, leaning back on the headboard.

“Yes.” Harry says, guilt evident in his voice.  
“Good.” Louis says, handing Harry the glass of water.

When Harry doesn’t make an effort to reach for it Louis grabs Harry’s hand and pushes the glass into it and closes Harry’s fingers around it.

“Drink.”  
“I’m not thirsty.” Harry says, reaching over and placing the glass on the nightstand.  
“I don’t care. You have to drink.” Louis says as he sits down on the bed, pulling the duvet over himself.  
“No.” Harry protests.   
“It’s been hours since you last drank something.” Louis decides on instead of ‘To replace the fluids you lost when you purged.’

Harry picks up the glass, knowing it is a fight that isn’t worth fighting. He drinks the water reluctantly, making a show of swallowing and then setting the glass back on the nightstand with more force than necessary.

“Thank you.” Louis says, pulling the duvet tighter around him, closing his eyes. “Did you have a nice shower?” He continues after a few seconds of silence. “Bet it was nice not to have a nurse standing guard.”

Harry swallows the sudden lump of guilt. Louis believes he had really taken a shower and part of Harry wants to tell him that he had purged. But the part yelling at him to not tell Louis is stronger and he just says: “Yes” before cuddling up under the duvet, pulling it tight around himself.

**

Hours later Louis wakes up to the sound of retching. He squints and tries to make out the red, digital number on the alarm clock. 1:16 AM. Enough is enough. He’s had enough. He won’t ignore it this time. He gets out of bed and marches over to the bathroom and opens the door so violently it bangs against the tiled wall, making Harry jerk and look up.

“Again? Really? You haven’t even eaten since the last time.”   
“I feel sick.” Harry says, as he tries to take in that Louis had heard him purge before but not said anything.  
“I would too if I made myself throw up.”

Tears was rolling down Harry’s cheeks. He is crying cause he is feeling so sick, but he knows Louis will think it is because he was caught purging.

Now that he has been sick until he was empty Harry can feel the nausea start to fade and being replaced with an overwhelming exhaustion.

“I’m tired.” He yawns.

Without saying anything Louis helps him to his feet and steadies him while he takes the few steps over to the sink. Once Harry has rinsed his mouth thoroughly, getting rid of the taste of sick, Louis helps him back to bed. Harry is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

**

“Harry, I hate to do this but I need to give you the morning feed and you need to be awake for it.” Louis says, gently shaking Harry’s shoulder to wake him up.  
“I’m just gonna be sick again.” Harry mumbles, words a bit jumbled from sleep.   
“No, you won’t if you don’t purge.”  
“I wasn’t purging. I’m sick.”  
“Sure, whatever. You still need your feeds.”

Louis still doesn’t believe him.

**

Just over half the feed has dripped down when the crippling nausea overtakes Harry and he knows he is going to be sick. He also knows that Louis won’t unhook him so he does it himself, not having time to flush the tube as he has to rush to the bathroom. Louis sees him unhooking the machine and getting up and follows.

“Harry, you need to stop.” Louis says, leaning against the door. He can’t deal with seeing Harry making himself sick.   
“I can’t.” Harry crooks as soon as he can breathe again.  
“You can and you have to.”  
“I can’t. I’m not purging.”

Harry can hear Louis walk away, making his heart sink. Louis still doesn’t believe him.

The nausea is still there, but not strong enough to make him throw up again. He knows he has to check that the tube is still in the right position and flush the tube so it doesn’t get clogged. He takes the stethoscope and syringe, fills the syringe with air. Puts the stethoscope on his stomach and pushes the air into the tube, hearing his stomach gurgle. The tube is still in his stomach, which is good and means he can flush the tube without the risk of getting water in his lungs.

When he has flushed he has to breathe deeply for a few seconds so he won’t get sick again and then have to repeat the checking and flushing.

**

Harry keeps getting sick after every feed throughout the day. He tries to convince Louis that he isn’t purging, that he is sick, but Louis won’t believe him, still convinced he is lying. Between getting sick Harry feels nauseated, too nauseated to be able sleep. Every time he closes his eyes it feels as if the room is spinning and he feels even sicker.

Harry doesn’t tell Louis about how he feels himself getting more and more woozy and disoriented as the day goes by, because the voice tells him that if he does he will be a burden for Louis, more of a burden than he already is.

**

Harry didn’t think it could get any worse, but the next morning he is proven wrong. After spending fifteen minutes throwing up air he all but collapses on the floor. He just lays there, cheek against the cold tile, trying to will his stomach to calm down. As he lays there he can hear Louis talking on the phone close by.

Louis feels like he is about to explode and yell at Harry again if he doesn’t leave right now. He can’t stay here, but he can’t bear the thought of Harry being alone so he has called Niall.

“Niall, could you please come over?” Louis says, tears in his voice.   
“What’s wrong? Is Harry okay?”  
“He won’t stop purging and I can’t take it anymore. I need some time to breathe. I need to get away or I will snap and yell at him again.”

Niall, of course, agrees to come over and asks Louis to give Harry a phone so he can talk to him, in case something happens. Louis does, he simply goes into the bathroom and presses Harry’s own phone into Harry’s palm.

“Please don’t go. Please…” Harry begs.   
“I’ll be back. I just need a break. Some time to think, to breathe.”

 _I want a break too. You have no idea how much I would like to get a break, some time to breathe._ Harry thinks.

**

Harry doesn’t answer the first time Niall tries to call him and it makes Niall start to worry. When Harry picks up on the fifth ring the second time he calls it eases his worries for a couple of seconds before there are sounds of retching coming through the speaker.

“Harry, can you please stop purging and talk to me.”  
“I’m not purging. I’m sick.” Harry says as soon as he stops getting sick.  
“Louis told me you would say that…”  
“Louis doesn’t believe me and now he’s left, but I’m not lying. I’m not purging.”  
“And it’s not the voice in your head telling you to say that so that we’ll let you purge?”  
“What? No. Do you really think I would purge while on the phone with you? Purge with Louis in the room? Do you think I want you to see me like that? Do you?”

Harry has a point. A good point.

“I believe you.” Niall says and he can swear he hears Harry let out a sigh of relief.

It might be a mistake to believe him, but Niall doesn’t think it is.

**

Niall has to hang up to be able to park, which he does in a hurry and then runs up the stairs to get to Harry as soon as possible.

When Niall comes to the front door he rings the doorbell once and then lets himself him with his key. The door to the bathroom is slightly ajar and Niall can hear sobbing coming from inside.

He fills a glass with water and makes his way to the bathroom.

“Harry, can I come in?” He asks.   
“Yes…” Harry croaks.

Harry is slumped against the toilet, his face contorted in pain and misery, his hair sticking to the sweaty skin on his face. Niall crouches down beside Harry on the floor and starts rubbing in soothing motions over his boney back with his free hand. When he tries to hand Harry the water Harry pushes him away and leans over the toilet bowl again and starts retching. It quickly turns into dry heaving as Harry doesn’t have anything left to get up. When Harry leans back against him he tries handing Harry the glass again but Harry still refuses to take it.

“Please Harry, you need to drink something.”  
“I’ll just get sick again.” Harry says, voice hoarse from throwing up so much.

**

It takes some coaxing but eventually Harry grabs the glass and takes a few sips of the now lukewarm water. Almost as soon as he has swallowed, the tiny amount of water comes back up again.

After trying a few more times to drink some water and then throwing it up immediately Harry says:  
“It’s no use. I can’t keep it down.” 

It worries Niall and he prays that Harry will be able to keep something down soon.

**

They spend what feels like forever on the bathroom floor. Harry is dryheaving on and off while Niall rubs his back and wipes his clammy forehead with a wet towel. Eventually Harry leans against Niall, nuzzling into his neck.

“Do you think you’re done getting sick? For now at least?” Niall asks, stroking over Harry’s hair, pulling the sweaty strands out of his face.   
“Think so... A bit queasy still... Not much to… get up anyway.” Words jumbled and slurred.

After helping Harry rinsing his mouth from the vile taste of sick Niall easily picks Harry up and carries him to the couch. Niall places a trash can beside the couch, “just in case”, turnes the TV on and sits down beside Harry. Harry cuddles up against Niall, leaning his head against Niall’s chest and feel sleep finally overtaking him.

Niall can’t focus on whatever program is on the TV, he is beyond worried about Harry. What if this is too dangerous for Harry, with his body being so weak already. He prays that the worst has passed and that Harry will sleep it off and feel better when he wakes up.

**

It is just after 2pm when Louis returns. He sits down beside Harry’s feet, starting to gently massaging Harry’s ankles.

“Has he continued to purge?” Louis asks.  
“He’s not purging, Louis. He’s sick. Like proper sick.”  
“No, he’s not. He’s lying to you. He’s just saying that so he can purge, so we’ll let him purge.”  
“You wouldn’t say that if you had seen him breaking down in tears after he finally stopped dryheaving, finally being able to breathe properly again or if you had to hold his head over the toilet when he was exhausted to do it himself.”

Just as Louis is about to open his mouth to respond Harry wakes up and immediately starts dryheaving, doubling over from the force and Louis pushes the trashcan into his lap. When the dryheaving come to an end Harry looks up at Louis, tears shining in his eyes.

“Do you believe me now?” Harry asks, voice completely shot.

Guilt washes over Louis like a tidal wave. Harry has been telling the truth the entire time and Louis has been acting like a dick instead of caring for his ill boyfriend.

“Louis, I think we have to take him to a hospital if he can’t keep water down soon. He’s getting dehydrated, if he isn’t already.”

Louis nods slowly, watching Harry put the trashcan back on the floor and leaning back against Niall again.

**

Harry’s been dozing for about an hour when he wakes up the next time. Both Niall and Louis reaches for the trashcan but this time Harry doesn’t start dryheaving. Which is a relief.

“I’m…” Harry starts and then clears his throat, wincing when it hurts, before he continues. “thirsty.”   
“Want some water?” Louis asks.   
“Mhm.” Harry mumbles as an answer and tries to rub sleep out of his eyes.

Louis gets up from the couch and goes and gets a glass of water and hands it to Harry once he’s back at the couch again. Harry tentatively takes a few sips before handing the glass back to Louis.

**

It’s around eight in the evening when Harry wakes up the next time.

“Do you want some more water?” Louis asks, since the last water stayed down.  
“No… no, I want to… try some… nutrition… drink…”

His voice strained, like it was hard for him to talk.

“Cause… I… I feel really… faint, even laying down…”

Louis tries not to show how anxious and terrified that makes him feel and goes and gets a nutrition drink out of the fridge. He pours the thick liquid into a glass and brings it back to Harry.

**

Harry drinks about half of it and it stays down.

Niall puts in ‘The Notebook’ at Harry’s request and they spend the rest of the night watching it. They’re a bit over an hour into the film when Harry falls asleep, soon followed by Niall.

Louis spends the remaining hour of the film watching Harry as he sleeps. He’s looking so peaceful when he’s asleep, in a way that he hasn’t been while awake for a really long and it sends a twinge of pain through Louis’ chest at the thought of how much Harry is suffering.

When the credits roll Louis turns the TV off, tucks a blanket around Niall, he doesn’t have the heart to wake him up. When the blanket is well tucked around Niall Louis gently lifts Harry up, cradling his frail body in his arms, carrying him to bed. He softly places Harry down on the mattress before laying down beside him and pulling the duvet over both of them. He kisses Harry’s forehead and curls up beside him, too afraid that he might break Harry to wrap his arms around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Finally an update. Longest chapter I have ever written. I'm not going to promise future chapters will be as long, but I have a feeling that they will be this long or maybe longer. 
> 
> Also, I've tried writing in 3rd person and was thinking of continuing doing that, or did it suck really bad? What do you think?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter and are glad to hear I have already started writing the next one. 
> 
> @littlemagiclou , I promise I don't bite ;)   
> xx


	35. Chapter 35

It’s 1.30 AM when Harry wakes up with a start, feeling really sick. He’s about to get out of bed when he starts having a seizure. He smacks Louis square in the chest with his fist when he falls back down on the bed as his limbs start to spasm. Louis wakes up and is about to ask what the hell is going on, but the words get stuck in his throat when he sees Harry mid-seizure on the bed beside him. Louis turns on the bedside lamp to be able to see better in the dark room. Harry’s eyes are wide open and filled with pure panic and fear and it’s the most terrifying thing Louis has ever seen.

It can’t have been more than a couple of minutes when Harry stops shaking and sits straight up on the bed. He looks over at Louis, eyes still full of panic and Louis is about to ask if he’s alright when Harry doubles over and throws up on the duvet. Louis eyes almost pop out of his head when he sees that the puddle of sick in front of Harry is red. Fucking red. Harry just threw up blood.

“Ohmygod! Oh… my… god…!” Voice loud, startling Harry.

Louis knows he should call for an ambulance, that something could be, and probably is, very wrong with Harry, but he can’t move. He’s frozen and all he can do is stare and repeat “oh my god” over and over again, like it’s a mantra.

Niall must have woken up from all the screaming because he comes through the door and is about to ask what’s wrong when he sees Harry sitting there, blood in the corner of his mouth, the puddle of blood on the duvet, the panic in both of their eyes, but the words get stuck and he has his phone against his ear before anyone has said anything, calling an ambulance. Louis silently thanks Niall for being responsible and for being able to do anything.

It’s first when Niall says: “Harry, you need to breathe” that Louis realizes that Harry’s gasping, struggling to get air into his lungs. And as Niall sits down behind Harry on the bed Louis stands up and starts pacing back and forth beside the bed. Harry curls in on himself even more, his stomach and chest hurting more for each second that is passing.

“It hurts.” Harry gasps, every breath a struggle.   
“What hurts, Harry?” Niall asks and Louis wants to thank him for being so calm.  
“It hurts.” Harry says again.  
“Where does it hurt? What hurts, Harry?” Niall asks again, a tight edge of worry in his voice.   
“Everythi… Everything hurts.” Harry sobs and curls himself into a tighter ball.  
“The ambulance is on the way, they will take you to the hospital and make you feel better, okay? You just have to hang in there and keep breathing.” Niall says and take hold of Harry’s shoulders and forces him to uncurl to open up his airways, hoping that it will help him breathe better.

Louis is a nervous wreck, rambling in panic and pacing back and forth beside the bed. Louis’ pacing makes Harry start to panic even more and Niall ask Louis to: “please stop pacing or leave the room” and Louis slumps against the wall, pulling up his legs and leaning his head against his knees.

Harry had just managed to take a deep breath when his whole body tensed up before lurching forward, throwing up. His body so weak Niall has to hold him upright to keep him from falling face first in the puddle of sick. Louis head shots up at the sound of Harry getting sick again, but after seeing that Niall was still beside Harry, helping him, he lets his head fall back down, breath hitching on a sob. It’s all too much.

Niall is about to suggest that they move Harry from the bed to the couch when the doorbell rings and the ambulance has arrived.

**

Words like respiratory distress, severe dehydration, bleeding ulcers and ruptured esophagus makes Louis’ world crumble. Was this it? Was he going to lose Harry? Louis stares blankly in front of him, not really seeing anything, going into shock and becoming catatonic. He’s vaguely aware that Niall is shaking him, trying to get contact with him, but he doesn’t react, can’t bring himself to.

It’s the words “We need to go to the hospital” that makes Louis come out the state of shock he’s in and gasp out a weak “Harry”.

Niall helps Louis up and ends up supporting most of Louis’ weight on the walk down to the car. When they’re almost at the car Louis’ knees give out and he crumbles to the ground and if it wasn’t for Niall being there catching him he would have fallen face first onto the asphalt.

**

When they arrive to the hospital there is a nurse waiting for them and leads them into a room and tells them that the doctor will be with them shortly.

As soon as the door fall shut behind the nurse Louis starts hyperventilating, pacing the room and again Niall has trouble getting contact with him. Niall knows that if he can’t get Louis to calm down Louis is going to pass out.

“Louis.” Niall tries, even though he knows he isn’t going to get an answer.

He ends up grabbing Louis by the wrists to keep him still. He looks Louis straight in the eyes as he asks:

“Can I do… Is there anything I can do to help you?”  
“Mum… my mum…”  
“Your mum… do you want me to call your mum? So you can talk to her?”

Louis nods.

“Please…” He whispers, collapses forward against Niall’s chest and starts crying.

Niall puts his arms around Louis and hold him as he cries, letting Louis’ tears soak his t-shirt. After a few moments Niall leads Louis carefully over to the couch in the corner and makes him sit down. Louis curls up against Niall and snuggles into Niall’s t-shirt.

**

“I think Lou might be in shock and he asked me to call you.”   
“Niall?” Jay asks, voice muddled with sleep.   
“Yeah, hi. I’m sorry to call so late…” Niall starts.  
“Is he alright? Oh dear, did Harry…”

She didn’t finish, but she didn’t need to, Niall knew what she was asking and is quick to reassure her that Harry was still alive.

“We’re at the hospital, but the doctor hasn’t been in to talk to us yet, so we don’t know what’s wrong.”

There is a short pause before Niall speaks again.

“And I think Lou might be in shock or something and he wanted me to call you. I’ll give him the phone now so you can talk to him.”  
“Thank you for being there for him Niall. How are you holding up?”  
“Of course. I’m worried out of my mind, obviously, but I’m trying to stay positive, think that everything will be okay in the end…”

He looks down at Louis, who is leaning on his chest and is making grabby hands towards the phone.

“I’ll hand Louis the phone now.” Niall says and him and Jay say good bye before he hands over the phone to Louis.

Niall cards his fingers through Louis’ sleep-mussed hair, trying to give a bit of comfort as Louis talks to his mum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for leaving you on a cliff-hanger once again.
> 
> I want to thank every single one of you that is still here and reading this fic and puts up with me and the slow updates.  
> Hugs and cookies to you! xx


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that it has been like forever since I last updated.   
> I hope that someone will still want to read this.  
> Enjoy!! xx

All the medical terms had made Louis’ head spin. The tests that had been done upon Harry arriving to the hospital had shown that he had the flu. The fever the flu had caused combined with Harry’s body being so weakened due to starvation lead to Harry becoming so severely dehydrated his kidneys had started to fail. The kidney failure had caused the nausea and vomiting which had caused a tear in Harry’s esophagus which had caused him to throw up blood.

Louis’ legs had almost given out when he saw Harry. His skin so pale it looked translucent. Veins like a blue spider-web underneath. Bones threating to pierce through the skin. And there was so many tubes and wires and it was frightening to think that without the machines he wouldn’t survive.

**

He dropped the still smoldering cigarette butt on the asphalt and crushed it with the sole of his shoe.

Guilt still churning in his stomach as he reached for the pack of cigarettes to light another one, only to find it was the only one left. Cursing under his breath he pulled out the last cigarette before crumpling the now empty carton in his palm.

When Louis is half way through the cigarette Zayn comes out, worry etched on his face.   
  
“Any change?” Louis asks, voice sounding weak and raspy.  
“No.” Zayn said, slowly shaking his head.  
Louis’ shoulders slumps in defeat.   
“He’s gonna be alright, Louis.” Zayn said, trying to reassure him.  
“You can’t know that.”

When Louis has smoked his last cigarette down to the filter he throws the butt on the ground and extends his hand towards Zayn, expecting Zayn to take out his pack and offer him one. But Zayn only shakes his head and says: “Come on, let’s go back inside.”  
“I can’t.” Louis croaks.

“I can’t look at him, knowing it’s my fault he’s laying there. I can’t.”   
“It’s not your fault he’s in hospital.”  
“If I had listened to him, if I had believed him and not accused him of lying, he wouldn’t be here.”  
“You don’t know that. He might have ended up in the hospital any way. It’s not your fault and nothing will be better if you blame yourself, especially for things that are not your fault.  And I can guarantee you that Harry doesn’t blame you, and neither does anyone else. The only one blaming you is you.”

Eventually Zayn succeeded in coaxing Louis to come back inside.

**

“You’re not gonna give him his feeds?” Louis roars, looking between the doctor and Harry.   
“At the moment it will hurt Harry more to get feeds and then throwing them up than to not get any feeds at all. Harry’s body need to be able to recover, and the tears in his throat needs time to heal without the strain of getting sick. As soon as we’re able to stop and reverse the kidney failure and get him hydrated again we will be able to start giving him feeds again. It will be okay, I promise.”   
“HE HAS A BMI OF TEN, FEED HIM! HE IS GOING TO FADE AWAY! I AM GOING TO LOSE HIM AND IT WILL ALL BE YOUR FAULT FOR NOT GIVING HIM HIS FEEDS!” Louis screams, tears of desperation shining in his eyes, before he storms out of the room.

Zayn, who’s the only one of the boys that’s in the room, follows Louis without even so much as a glance towards the doctor. He catches up with Louis in the hallway, grabs his arm and leads him towards a door leading to the roof. He had noticed the door when he and Liam arrived a couple of hours ago and thought it was weird that it was partly open. Louis didn’t question him and just followed. It wasn’t until they had sat down and Zayn had placed a cigarette between Louis’ fingers and lit it that Louis broke the silence.

“What if I fucking lose him?”  
“You won’t.”  
“You can’t know that.”   
“You’re right, I can’t, I just try to stay positive.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“We have to be strong for him.” Zayn says and puts a comforting arm around Louis’ shoulders.  
“I can’t, Zee. I’m trying my fucking best and I just can’t.” Louis rasps out, leaning his head against Zayn.   
“We’ll help you, I promise. You have to keep believing that everything will be okay in the end.”

**

Waking up not being able to breathe was one of the most terrifying thing Harry had experienced. When he tries to take a deep breath he feels that something is blocking his throat and he starts to panic. His eyes snaps open and he puts his hands on his face and feels that he has a plastic tube taped to his face. The panic keeps rising inside him and he starts to pick on the tape with shaky fingers. Suddenly someone is stopping him, gently removing his fingers from the tube. He looks up and straight into a pair of eyes that feels vaguely familiar to him but it isn’t until he hears her voice that the pieces fall into place. It is Trina, the nurse that had put in the feeding tube the last time, the time he did it without being sedated.

“Harry, I need you to calm down and try to focus on something else than the uncomfortable feeling in your throat. If it’s possible.”

Harry tries to tell her that the discomfort wasn’t his biggest issue, it was the fact that he couldn’t breathe, but all that came out was a gurgling noise.

“It will feel better if you try to breathe with the machine instead of trying to breathe on your own.” She explains and her voice is just as soothing as Harry remembered and he did his best to do as she said.

“I’ve paged your doctor and he will be here any minute and he will check your vitals.”

“Try not to panic. And lay as still as you can, it will only make it worse if you move.”

He did his best to do as Trina said even if everything inside him screams in panic: “Breathe!”

He lays there staring up in the white ceiling for what feels like forever, doing his best to time his breaths with the machine, before he finally hears the door open and on instinct he turns his head to see who entered. Pain sears through his throat and he looks at Trina, eyes big with fear when she gently helps him lay back.               

The doctor, Dr. Jones, checks Harry’s vitals and deems them to be stable enough to extubate him.

“When I tell you to I want you to exhale as strongly as you can as that will expand your throat and will help minimize a sore throat.” Dr. Jones explains.  

There is some shuffling beside his bed and then he feels the doctor’s plastic gloved hands on his cheeks, pulling away the tape that held the ventilator in place.

“Now Harry, please exhale as strongly as you can.”

He did and then it feels like the doctor is pulling out a long string with ping-pong balls attached to it out of his throat. When the whole thing was out he takes a deep breath, but it ends up in a coughing fit.

“Relax, Harry, relax.” Trina says, drawing slow, soothing circles on the back of Harry’s hand.

She continues doing so even after Harry has relaxed and the coughing has come to an end and Dr. Jones starts to explain that he is in hospital, as if he hadn’t been able to come to that conclusion by himself, and that he had been intubated to help him breathe because he had a lot of trouble with breathing on his own when he arrived at the hospital. Dr. Jones also explains that his kidneys had started failing as a result of severe dehydration. Harry can’t really take in all the information that the doctor gave him, but he has a feeling it won’t be the last he would hear what happened to him.

It was first when it had calmed down a little bit and Dr. Jones had left that Harry noticed that besides Trina, who was changing his IV-drip, the room was empty. Harry didn’t want to sound needy but why wasn’t Louis with him, sitting beside his bed, holding his hand? Had he done something to upset Louis? What if Louis had left Harry because he had realized that Harry was a lost cause, beyond help? Maybe he was. Maybe he couldn’t get better.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!!! 
> 
> ((it might suck, but hopefully it doesn't)) 
> 
> ENJOY!!

The next time Harry wakes up he is shivering. His whole body is shaking uncontrollably and he can’t stop it, it’s like he has no control of his body. He’s not cold though, he is burning up. He tries to remove the scratchy blanket but his limbs don’t respond. There are voices, they are blurring together and sound like they are at the end of a long tunnel. They sound familiar but he can’t put a name on any of them, nor tell them apart. He feels as if his head is filled with cotton and he feels dizzy even while laying down. He slowly opens his eyes, but quickly closes them again as all he can see is a blur or colors and shapes and it’s making him nauseated.  He needs to let the voices know what’s happening to him so that they can help him, help him not feel this way anymore, so he opens his mouth, intending to express how he was feeling but all that came out was a pained whimper. It works though, he gets their attention and soon he is feeling something damp and cold being placed on his forehead and it feels like heaven. Then he isn’t able to register anything more as he’s enveloped by darkness.

**

The first thing Harry becomes aware of when he wakes up is that he’s so thirsty his mouth is so dry it hurts. He opens his eyes to see if there is someone he can ask for something to drink. The room isn’t blurring together anymore, which is a relief and Louis is there. He is focused on his phone, brows furrowed together in concentration.

“Water.” Harry croaks, hoping it will be loud enough to get Louis’ attention.

Louis looks up from his phone at the sound of Harry’s voice and his expression changes from concentrated to relieved. Louis has a smile playing on his lips as he gets up and walks over to the sink in the corner of the room and fills up a plastic cup with water and hands it to Harry. The cup feels blissfully cold against Harry’s overheated skin.

“Here you go…”

Harry’s so desperate to quench his thirst he downs the water in three big gulps before Louis has finished his sentence.

“…Just sip it slowly so you don’t upset your stomach.”

As if on cue Harry’s stomach started to churn. It all happened so fast. One moment he was savoring the feeling of icy water sliding down his throat and the next he could feel his stomach turning and before he knew it he was throwing up, expelling the small amount of water he just drank without having any chance to warn Louis that he was going to be sick. By the time Louis placed a basin on under his chin the gown he was wearing was already soiled.

“Oh baby, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Louis says, voice soothing as he gently strokes over Harry’s forehead, brushes his hair out of his face.

Harry is crying, quiet sobs slipping through his parted lips, until he looks down on the soiled gown and sees speckles of blood, then he starts to panic. He gasps and wheezes out:   
“Blood.”

Louis follows Harry’s gaze and sees the speckles of blood too and he’s just about to press the alert-button when a nurse comes in the room to change Harry’s IV-bag. She notices what has just happened and stammers: “Oh dear, I’ll go get a sponge-bath immediately.”  
  
“Can’t he shower?” Louis asks, not wanting Harry to be humiliated that way.    
“Sadly his body is too weak for that.”  
“But what if I go with him? Can he shower then, if I shower with him?”  
“I’ll go ask Harry’s doctor.” The nurse says before leaving the room.

**

Even when both Louis and Trina had their arms around his shoulders he felt like he was going to collapse, that’s how dizzy he felt, the room spinning in front of him.

But he wasn’t going to go through the humiliation of getting a sponge bath, and letting Trina see him naked, so he didn’t say anything.

They made it into the bathroom without Harry passing out, which Harry definitely counted as a big win.

Trina stood in the doorway, head turned away, giving Harry some privacy as Louis helped him take the soiled hospital gown off.

Louis bundled it up and gave it to Trina before he closed the door and turned around to face Harry who was sitting on the toilet, in just his boxers, trembling.

“You can sit on the floor and I’ll wash you off and then I’ll bundle you up in a towel and carry you back to the bed. How does that sound?”  
“I can do this. I can shower like a normal person. I don’t need you help.” Harry says, getting defensive, and stands up.

He wobbles and Louis grabs Harry’s arm and asks: “You sure you can do this?”  
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Harry answers as a fresh wave of dizziness hits him and he wobbles again.

**  
Harry has a white-knuckled grip on Louis’ shoulders while Louis wash his hair, focusing on the way Louis’ fingers felt against his scalp instead of the dizziness that wouldn’t leave.

When Louis had finished rinsing out the suds he put the shower head back in its holder and took Harry in his arms. They both stood under the spray, Louis embracing Harry and Harry still clinging to Louis’ shoulders when Harry broke the silence between them.

“I want to be able to see all the bones.”  
“You can.” Louis says, choked up and gently runs one of his hands over the bumps of Harry’s spine. “I can feel and see every vertebra of your spine.” He continues, and he can’t get over hos emaciated Harry is. This is the first time in months that he sees Harry naked and it hurts.   
“But I…” Harry starts, but his voice fade out half-way through, his jaw going slack, eyes rolling back into his head and a split second later he is dead weight in Louis’ arms, head lolling to the side.

To say that Louis freaked out would be an understatement. He screamed for a nurse, for anyone to come and help him, to help Harry. Trina came in and if Louis hadn’t been so freaked out and worried he would have found the situation a bit awkward.

With Trina’s help he got Harry dried up, dressed and back into bed. Harry had came around when Louis had toweled his hair dry, he had still been out of it a bit, but at least he wasn’t unconscious anymore.

**

Later, in the evening Louis sits beside Harry on the bed, reading on his phone while Harry is getting some well-needed rest.

Louis couldn’t help himself and googled to see if there were any articles about Harry’s latest trip to the hospital. There had been a bunch of them last time, and the time before that and pretty much every time something had happened in a public place. And it made Louis livid, cause the media, the newspapers, they had nothing to do with what was going on in their private lives, and to use Harry’s suffering to make a selling head-line was sickening. Yet he couldn’t help but read the articles.

He had just clicked on a _Daily Mail_ article with the headline **Boyband heart-throb Harry Styles rushed to hospital AGAIN** when his phone is snatched out of his hands. He looks up to see Harry holding the phone, focusing on the display. His face illuminated, cheekbones looking even more prominent.

“Why are you reading this?” Harry asks, looking up at Louis.   
“Curious?  Wanted to know if someone knew this time too, I guess?”  
“This time? There’s more?”  
“Yeah…”  
“Has there been articles every time?”  
“Pretty much, and it makes me want to punch someone. They don’t have anything to do with what happens in our private lives. And to make headlines out of your suffering to sell more, that’s sickening.”   
“So you’ve read a lot of these articles and never thought saying something about it to me?”  
“We didn’t want you to read them.”  
“We? Who’s we?”  
“Me and the boys. Please don’t be mad, we just wanted to protect you.”  
“I’m not mad at you. But you could have told me about them, and I might have listened to you if you told me you didn’t want me to read them.”  
“You’re right, I should have told you. I just wish they didn’t have to write them at all.”  
“Let’s forget about them and let’s cuddle, okay? Does that sound good?”

Louis nods, places the phone on the bedside-table before he pulls Harry close. Harry cuddles up against Louis, nuzzles his face into the soft material of Louis’ knitted sweater, breathing in the scent of Louis. It had been way to long since they cuddled like this. Harry didn’t realize until now how much he’d been missing it.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a bit short, but it's something at least.  
> if there is anyone still reading this.  
> if there isn't, I totally understand you.

It took several days before Harry’s stomach could handle and keep down the feeds, and now for the first time in nine days he was full. No matter how awful the last few days of throwing up had been part of Harry still wished he could be sick, could make himself sick, just so he could feel empty again.

He hadn’t realized that he’d voiced his thoughts out loud until Louis’ sharp intake of breath.

“Why Harry? Why do you want that?” Louis asks, his stomach twisting at the thought.  
“Because I hate this. I hate feeling full. It makes me feel disgusted with myself.” Harry’s voice is sickened and shrill.

After all the times Louis had begged Harry to tell the truth, to be completely honest, it still stung hearing him say it. He couldn’t wrap his head around that his Harry was feeling like this.

“Think of the food as medicine, to help you get better.”  
“I don’t want to get better.”

To say that Louis was stunned would be an understatement. It’s quiet for a few minutes before Louis breaks the silence.

“So I guess I should say goodbye then.”  
“Why should you say goodbye?” Harry asks, confused.  
“Because if you don’t start eating and getting better you’re going to die, Harry.”  
“Don’t be so dramatic. I won’t die.”  
“Do I have to remind you of how your heart stopped beating twice or that you’re currently recovering from kidney failure? Your body is so weakened and malnourished it might give up at any moment. And that scares the crap out of me. To know that I could lose you.”

There is a long pause before Louis bluntly asks:

“Do you want to die, Harry?”

The minute of silence before Harry answers is unnerving and Louis can’t bring himself to look at him.

“I don’t.”  
“Then you have to start eating or you will.”  
“I won’t die just because I don’t eat. Have you ever heard of anyone that has died from not eating?” Harry says, still stubborn.  
“As a matter of fact I have. Carrie, 20 years old, suffered from anorexia, 5ft 7, 96 lbs. She went to sleep and never woke up. Liver failure due to malnutrition. Eliza, 16 years old, suffered from bulimia. 5ft 5, 112 lbs. She passed away while she was up purging in the middle of the night. Her mum found her lifeless on the bathroom floor the next morning. Kidney failure due to dehydration from excessive vomiting. Andrew, 21 years old, suffered from anorexia, 5ft 8, 100 lbs. He was out for a run when he collapsed. When a passerby found him it was too late. Cardiac arrest due to malnutrition and electrolyte imbalances. Sarah, 15 years old, suffered from…”  
“I get it. I get it. Stop, please just stop.” Harry croaks, covering his face with his hands.

He felt sick, his hands shaking as the seriousness of the situation sank in. Even if he had been on the brink of dying on multiple occasions, it had never hit him that he was literally playing with death, that the only reason he was still here was an insane amount of luck. 

“All the things you talked about, the cardiac arrests, the seizure, throwing up blood, I don’t remember any of it.”  
“I wish I had that luxury, not remembering.” Louis says. “Every time I close my eyes I re-live those moments all over again.” He continues, shuddering.  
“I wish I could remember.” Harry mumbles and rubs his hands over his face before letting them fall down in his lap.  
“I wish I could forget.” Louis says, his voice cracking.

“Tell me about them. Maybe it will trigger my memory. I want to remember.”  
“You don’t really want to remember, trust me.”  
“I do, I think it might be good for me.”

Louis started telling Harry about it all, but when he came to the part where he almost lost Harry, when Harry’s heart stopped beating, he choked on his words. He couldn’t keep talking. It was like his throat closed and he couldn’t utter a word.

“I can’t.” Louis manages to get out, shaking his head, silent tear spilling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, for everything. I’m sorry for making you go through all that, for forcing you to talk about it. I really am sorry, I never meant for you to get hurt.” Harry says, the tears evident in his voice, and pats the mattress right beside him, silently asking for Louis to lay down. Louis doesn’t dare to crawl into bed with Harry and settles on resting his head on the mattress next to Harry’s chest. Harry immediately starts to comb his fingers through Louis’ hair, trying to comfort him.

They lay like that for a long time without saying anything to each other until Louis puts a hand on Harry’s chest and breaks the silence.  
“Keep this beating.”

Harry doesn’t know what to respond, the words fail him and he simply puts his hand over Louis’ on his chest as a promise.

They’re both drained, emotionally and physically, so as they lay in silence they both fall asleep.

**

Louis wakes up with a start when someone puts a hand on his shoulder. He slowly lifts his head, eyes adjusting to the dark. The nurse looks apologetic when she quietly says: “I’m sorry to wake you, you both looked so peaceful. But unfortunately, visiting-hours are over…”

“And I have to leave.” Louis finishes the sentence for her.  
“Sadly, yes. Hospital-rules. If it was up to me I would let you stay, but it’s not.”

Louis nods, too exhausted to argue with the nurse, and slowly and reluctantly gets up, places a light kiss on Harry’s forehead before shuffling after the nurse. Before stepping out of the room Louis turns and looks over to Harry to see if he has woken up. Fortunately, he hadn’t. Louis lets out a sigh of relief when the door falls shut behind them with a soft thud.

“If Harry wakes up before I can get back here tomorrow can you make sure he knows I didn’t leave him, that I had to go? I don’t want him thinking I left him.” Louis says, rubbing his eyes.  
“Of course.”

**

Harry stirs awake when the door falls shut. His eyes snap open and once they have adjusted to the dark he looks around the room only to find that he is alone.

The anxiety from earlier starts to come crawling back. He still feels full, he can still feel the fat and calories cling to the inside of his stomach and it makes him want to claw his throat raw and expel what’s inside him. He knows it won’t work, too much time has passed. That thought sends the already lingering anxiety through the roof.

His skin starts itching, like it’s millions of tiny insects crawling across his body, and it hits him that it’s been forever since he last cut. He had to cut. He had to get some release or the anxiety was going to kill him.

He looks around the room for something, anything he could use. There’s no blades, no scissors, no glass to smash. Finally he sees a lonely plastic cup on his nightstand. He picks it up and crushes the small cup in his hand. He then peels it apart with nimble fingers.

When the plastic cuts through the skin it’s like the anxiety’s leaving alongside the blood and Harry breathes a sigh of relief. He keeps slicing his wrist until he feels fully relaxed before placing the plastic-shard under his pillow and pulls the sleeves down on his sweater. With five fresh cuts he falls asleep, finally anxiety-free.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!  
> Hopefully it won't take me two months until I upload again.

Harry had almost given up on anyone coming to visit him. Maybe he was being silly, but he felt abandoned. He had spent the time between hourly rounds, when a nurse would come in and take his vitals, doing sit ups in his bed, desperate to burn of the calories that had been pumped into him.

So when the door creaks open at 11.26 he knows it won’t be a nurse, they come in at .45 every hour. The sight of Zayn coming through the door fills Harry with relief, he hadn’t been abandoned, and he starts getting out of bed, what’s left of his abdominal muscles burning and he winces.

Zayn quickens his pace to stop Harry and gently pulls him into a hug when he reaches the bed.

“Morning sweetheart.” Zayn says as he sinks into the chair beside the bed.

That’s when he sees them. The blood stains. They’re stark against the light grey of Harry’s sweater. Before Harry has a chance to stop him, Zayn has pulled up the sleeve. Unfortunately a few of the scabs has gotten stuck in the fabric and gets torn off and the cuts starts bleeding again.

“What did you use?” Zayn asks, voice calm.   
“A plastic-shard.” Harry answers, a hint of nervousness in his voice.   
“Do you still have it?”

Harry slowly reaches underneath the pillow, where he placed the shard last night, and pulls out the bloody piece of plastic and places it in Zayn’s outstretched hand.

“Did they bleed a lot?”   
“Not really.”  
“So, not too deep?”  
“Couldn’t really go deep with that thing.” Harry says, nodding towards the shard in Zayn’s hand.  
“Are these all of them?”

Harry nods.

“Okay, then get them cleaned and wrapped up, okay?”  
“No doctor!” Harry exclaims in panic.

Zayn nods in understanding before he turns around.

“Please don’t get a doctor.” Harry pleads when he sees that Zayn is heading for the door.   

“I won’t, I promise. Just need to get a few things to clean your cuts. Okay?” Zayn says, trying to determine if he can leave Harry, to get the stuff he needs, or if he should stay.

When Harry gives him a tiny nod he opens the door and goes searching for a nurse. He finds Trina by the nurses-station and asks if she can get him some gauze, plasters, antiseptic gel and Vaseline.

Trina looks puzzled, she obviously wonders why he needs all this.

“Has he injured himself?” Trina asks after a few beats of silence.   
“Can you please just get me the stuff?” Zayn asks, ignoring Trina’s question all together.   
“If he has injured himself he needs to have the wounds checked by a medical professional.”  
“I can handle it. I don’t want him freaking out more than he already is. I know what I’m doing, just please get me the stuff I asked for.”  
“If anything happens…”  
“If I need help I’ll page you, I promise.” Zayn says, interrupting Trina before she can finish her sentence, getting impatient, wanting to get back to Harry as quick as possible.

**

Zayn helps Harry into the bathroom, where he cleans Harry’s cuts with water and soap, and then helps him back to bed. Zayn can feel Harry trembling underneath his fingers when he applies the antiseptic gel and puts on a generous amount of Vaseline on his cuts. He waits until he has put the plasters on and is wrapping Harry’s wrist with gauze until he asks what’s wrong.

Harry remains silent and when Zayn looks up to take a look at him Harry’s eyes are full of panic.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn asks again and fastens the gauze with a piece of tape.   
“Please don’t tell Louis.” Harry begs.   
“I won’t, but Harry, he’s not blind.”  
“It’s just that we had a talk last night… And he asked me if I wanted to die… And I don’t. But if he finds out about the cuts he might think I lied to him, that I do want to die. But I don’t, I didn’t do it because I wanted to die, I did it to…”   
“Get rid of the anxiety.” Zayn finishes for him.

Confusion takes over Harry’s face and Zayn explains:  
“I know what I’m talking about, remember?” And pulls his sleeve up, scars almost invisible.   
“I wish I’d never done it.” Harry whispers, looking down at his wrapped wrist.   
“I get what you mean, but it’s gonna be okay.” Zayn says, trying to comfort him, pulling the blanket up over Harry’s legs.

Harry stifles a yawn, he doesn’t understand how he can be so tired, as it feels like all he’s doing is sleeping and just laying in bed all day.

“You should try to get some rest before the others get here.” Zayn says.

Harry sighs and lets the exhaustion take over, but as he’s laying back down on the bed a sharp pain shoots through his abdomen and he can’t help but wince.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn immediately asks, his voice laced with worry.  
“It hurts.” Harry responds, breathing through the pain.  
“Hurts where?”

Harry puts his hand on his stomach to show Zayn as it hurts to talk.

“Your stomach hurts? Should I go get a nurse?”

Harry shakes his head.

“But what if it’s your kidneys acting up?”  
“It’s not.” Harry croaks.  
“How do you know?”  
“I know because it’s the muscles that hurts.” Harry says, relaxing down onto the bed as the pain starts to fade away.  
“That you barely have any left. Why do they hurt?”   
“Because I’ve been doing sit-ups all morning.”

There is a beat of silence before Harry adds:   
“Burnt 320 calories.” Like it was his proudest achievement.

“But please don’t tell anyone. They will just force me to eat more.” Harry pleads after another few moments of silence.   
“There’s an awful lot of secret-keeping you expect me to do. What’s in it for me? What do I get out of keeping your secrets?”

Harry shrugs his shoulders, he hadn’t expected Zayn to want something in return. Zayn thinks for a moment before he remembers the smoothie he brought for breakfast and reaches for his backpack and pulls the smoothie out.

“If you drink this I won’t say anything about the cuts or the sit-ups.” Zayn says and holds up an Innocent smoothie.   
“But that’s 150 calories!” Harry exclaims.

‘Of course he knows the calorie-content.’ Zayn thinks before he says:   
“Would you rather they force-feed you?”  
“This is blackmailing.”  
“You could call it that if you want. I prefer to call it ‘making a deal’.”  
“Fine, whatever, just give it to me.” Harry says in defeat, knowing he’s going to lose.

Harry’s surprised to find that the smoothie tastes really good, his deprived taste buds dancing and before he knows it he has emptied to bottle.

“Good, right?” Zayn comments. “The pomegranate one is my favorite.”

Harry shrugs and hands Zayn the bottle, but he can’t help but lick his lips to savor every drop.

**

It takes only fifteen minutes before Harry starts feeling sick. He closes his eyes and let out a soft whimper.

“Something wrong?” Zayn asks, looking up from his phone.  
“Feel sick.” Harry croaks, trying to breathe through the nausea.

Zayn looks around the room in search for a basin or bowl or bag, something that Harry could be sick in. He finds a basin on a shelf and retrieves it, placing it under Harry’s chin right on time and just as Harry throws up Louis and Liam walks through the door. Liam takes one look and then turns around and rushes out the door.

They can hear Liam call: “I need some help. My friend is throwing up blood.” out in the hallway and not even ten seconds later a panicked Liam and a stressed nurse comes into the room.

Harry spits into the basin one last time before he looks up and explains:  
“It’s not blood.”

Liam, Louis and the nurse still looks confused, they can all see the red puddle in the basin.

“I gave him a smoothie, a pomegranate smoothie and apparently his stomach didn’t agree with it.” Zayn explains.   
“Why did you give him the smoothie? He’s not supposed to have anything outside of his meal plan as he’s at high risk of developing refeeding syndrome.” There is an obvious hint of annoyance in the nurse’s voice.

Zayn looks at Harry and Harry just nods, he knows that they need to tell the nurse about the sit ups and the deal that Zayn wouldn’t say anything if he drank the smoothie.

“I told Zayn that I had been doing sit ups all morning and in exchange for keeping it a secret he told me to drink the smoothie, to replace the calories I burnt, I guess. So if you’re gonna be angry at someone, it should be me, not Zayn.” Harry says, pulls the blanket over him and curls into a ball on the bed. He can hear them talking, but he pays them no attention. He’s tired. Tired of being the center of attention. Tired of being a burden.

**

After the nurse leaves no one says anything, the silence thick.

“Where’s Niall?” Harry asks suddenly, the sound making the others jump a bit.   
“We actually don’t know.” Liam confesses. “He hasn’t answered our calls.”  
“Maybe something is wrong. Give me my phone.” Harry demands.   
“He’s probably just sleeping or has forgotten his phone.” Liam says, but hands Harry his phone anyway.

After five signals Harry is greeted with a raspy-voiced Niall.

“Yeah?” Niall croaks.  
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? You don’t sound too good.”  
“Think I might have the flu or somet…” Niall says but can’t finish as he starts coughing.  
“It’s my fault. I got you sick. Are you okay?”  
“Apart from a sore throat and some fatigue, yeah. It’s not nearly as bad for me as it was for you. Really it’s just an excuse to stay in bed and watch the telly and no can tell me otherwise.”  
“I’m still sorry that I got you sick.” Harry apologizes, guilt heavy in his chest.   
“The thing that suck though, is that I can’t come visit you. At least not until I’m not contagious anymore, since your immune system is crap and you’ll probably get sick again and I read something about it being deadly the second time or something.”  
“I’ll miss you and I’m looking forward to cuddling when you’re better.”  
“I’ll call you though, silly. Tell Liam to swing by with some painkillers and lozenges when he’s done visiting you, please.”  
“Of course. Feel better.”

They says goodbye and as Harry puts his phone on the bedside-table and meets the confused eyes of the others.

“I got him sick.” Harry explains, still feeling guilty. “Liam he asked me to ask you to swing by with painkillers and lozenges later.” He adds before curling up under his blanket again.


	40. Chapter 40

“I don’t know what to do anymore. His stomach is so weak he can’t keep food down, he’s literally fading away day by day, hour by hour, fuck even minute by minute. I can’t lose him. I can’t.”  
“The doctor said his stomach would get stronger and able to digest food in time, they just need to take it slow.” Zayn says, trying to comfort Louis.   
“And he’s distancing himself from me. He hasn’t talked to me since our argument.”

Louis buries his face in his hands, sobs escaping his lips.

“And he has cut.” Louis says after a brief moment of silence.   
“Did he tell you?”   
“No. I just told you he haven’t… wait, you knew?”  
“I saw the stains on his hoodie.”  
“And you didn’t say anything?”  
“He made me promise not to.”  
“And you went along with it?”  
“I know it’s stupid and sounds like a really dumb thing to do, but yeah I did.”  
“You should have told me.” Louis states.  
“Yeah, I should have.”

“Louis, don’t freak out…”

Louis glares at him with raised eyebrows.

“…but I have this worry in the back of my head that his self-harm will escalate once he starts gaining weight.”  
“How? Why? And how do you expect me to not freak out when you tell me something like that?”  
“The weight-gain will make him feel out of control. Like he’s losing the control he had.”  
“Is cutting a control-thing too?”   
“It can be.” Zayn answers, looking down.  
“You done research too?” Louis asks.  
“In a way I guess you could call it that.”  
“What do you mean?”

Instead of giving a verbal answer he pulls his sleeves up and holds out his arms towards Louis.

“Still don’t get it.”  
“Look closer and you’ll see them.”

Louis leans forward and takes a closer look at Zayn’s outstretched arms. At first he still doesn’t see anything other than the tattoos, but then he spots a faint white line. Then that’s all he can see. Faded scars scattered in criss cross pattern across Zayn’s arms.

“You used to cut too?” Louis asks, voice trembling, as he looks up to meet Zayn’s eyes.

Zayn nods and before Louis has a chance to say anything Zayn answers the questions that’s clear on Louis’ face.

“It was a long time ago and I didn’t tell you because it was in the past. A part of my life I’m done with.”  
“Does Harry know?” Louis asks.  
“Yeah, I told him when I found him after you had found out about his self harm. I thought it would make him open up about it if he knew that I had been through similar stuff.”  
“And did it?”  
“A bit I guess.”   
“Can you tell me, so I can understand it better and help him?” Louis pleads.  
“Yeah of course, but first you need to know that just because I tell you my story doesn’t mean you know Harry’s. Everyone’s experience is different. What helped me might not help Harry.”  
“I know, sadly. Would be easier if it was the same.”

Zayn puts his arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulls him into a one-sided hug and starts telling his story, beginning to end.

**

Before they can discharge him they have to make sure he’s stable enough to be able to go home. Which is why Harry and Louis are currently waiting for a nurse to take them down to do an echocardiogram, an ultrasound of Harry’s heart.

A nurse had already been in earlier this morning to take blood -and urine samples to check how Harry’s kidneys were working. She had told a disgruntled Harry that he had to wait for the results until the next day, which annoyed Harry, he just wanted to go home.

**

Harry hadn’t spoken to Louis all morning, instead spending the majority of the time on Skype with Niall. So when he had helped Harry from the wheelchair onto the exam-table he turns to leave.

“Don’t go. Please stay. Stay with me, please?” Harry pleads before he with great difficulty and the help of his hands sits up on the exam-table, causing the blanket to fall onto the floor.

It’s painful to see how weak his body is, that he starved and abused himself so much that his body has eaten away so much muscle that he can’t sit up without using his hands.

“I won’t leave. I promise. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me here, considering you haven’t been talking to me.” Louis says and picks up the blanket and drapes it over Harry’s frail body.  
“I do want you here. And I’m sorry for ignoring you. It’s just a lot to deal with.”  
“It’s okay, just wished you’d talk to me, let me help you.”  
“I’ll try, I promise.”

**

When the doctor comes in with the test-results the next morning Harry mutters a quiet: “Finally.”

The results show that Harry’s body is weak, but he’s stable enough to be able to leave the hospital and go home.

**

It’s almost midday when a nurse comes in to remove the IV and Harry is tired of seemingly everyone acting like they expect him to be overjoyed to be getting out of the hospital in time for Christmas. So when the nurse says:

“I bet you’re happy that you will be home in time for Christmas.”  
“I don’t want Christmas. It’s just food, food and food.” Harry responds and sighs.  
“But you get to spend time with your family and friends, yeah?”

Harry just shrugs.

**

Louis doesn’t want Harry to go home to Holmes Chapel to celebrate Christmas with his family. Of course he wants Harry to be with his family on Christmas but he’s scared. What if something happens and he’s not there to help Harry? Logically Louis knows that if something were to happen when Harry is home his parents will help him, but emotionally it is hard to let him leave. Anne’s even promised that she will take care of Harry and not let anything happen to her son.

**

They have said their good byes but just as the car-door is about to fall shut Louis sticks his foot out to stop it and opens it again. He leans down to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Promise me you will at least try to eat something. Just a bit of Christmas-dinner. It would be the best present ever.”

Harry nods and looks away from Louis’ gaze.

“I love you.” Louis says, voice soft, and leans in to place a small kiss on Harry’s chapped lips.   
“Love you.” Harry murmurs against Louis’ lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to write maybe five more chapter for this fic and then write a sequel with his recovery. Haven't fully decided yet. Thoughts? xx


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